Children of the Corn: Harvest Mistress
by Lugosi
Summary: Cousins Bridgette and Rebecca have come to a small Nebraska town for summer vacation... but they'll soon find they'll be taking care of alot more then just their sick old Grand Aunt.
1. Coming Here, to Beckoning

**B**reathing…

But the breath was spoiled.

You see, upon the in, it made a distinct growl… like when something is blocking someone's breathing, making it hard for them, and so the strange humming growl type noise is made…

And, upon the out, it was a quick brush… like when the air is forced out of someone's lungs…

The breathing was clearly through the nose…

And then, all of the sudden, it stopped…

Silence, silence, silence…

And then, piecing the silence was the punch sound… like you hear when someone has not been breathing for some time, and then suddenly gets their breath back.

Then the long drag of breathing in…

And the fading hum of breathing out…

And then… nothing.

**S**he felt as though almost every head in town was turned at her presence…

Everyone was staring… weren't they?

It brought a heavy anxiety to her heart… no trust for people… no trust at all.

But she had to try… had to stay strong… right?

**E**veryone was staring…

No one knew the strange looking girl.

A taxi cab had brought her up to the edge of town… but not in. The strange girl had emerged with no more luggage then an old looking backpack, the straps both thrown over one shoulder.

The girl was about fifteen years of age… her hair was a dirty ash blonde in color, and belly-button length. Her eyes were green, big and clear and almost always surrounded by black liquid-liner. Her chest was small and her hips rather narrow, she was about 5"3' and 98 lbs.

Her manner of dress was strange, as well. The stranger wore a burgundy crush velvet tank top, spaghetti straps, with a plain black skirt that hung almost to her knees with little, one inch long, strips of black yarn hanging from the bottom all around, black and white horizontally stripped stockings, and off white slippers with a slight heal and a plain black cotton choker, a thin little black string loose-hanging choker with extra string hanging a little ways down her shoulder, and a black necklace that held a crisp white bird skull resting against her chest. On her wrists, she wore 20 black rubber bracelets on each.

Her blonde hair was all bundled up on the back of her head.

The stranger, still with one of her feet in the cab, had looked around the town. Squinting, even though evening was drawing near and the light was only so bright off to the west, where the sun set. The closeness of her eye lids made the thick layer of liquid liner that surrounded them stand out even more. Her pink lips parted slightly, surveying the town.

It wasn't much at all… just small town Nebraska.

After her look, she turned back in the cab, talking to the driver, then… eventually… paid the man and stepped out.

The stranger watched the cab drive away, until it was completely out of sight. Then, she turned with a jerk, and began her walk down the street.

The stares had begun since the moment she stuck her head out of the cab.

_Now what_..., a voice whispered on the wind… but no one bothered to hear it.

Rebecca Stepp was young, only fifteen, with shoulder-length dirty golden blonde hair she usually just threw back in a sloppy ponytail, and huge gray eyes filled with expression. She was poorly developed but tall enough.

She wore light and comfortable clothes… today, a blue striped tank-top and white loose fitting shorts.

Your average small town girl.

She was here to visit her Grand Aunt.

Her cousin, Bridgette, was supposed to come, too.

The cousins were masking their visit as a nice, friendly, family visiting for the summer type thing… although, they were really here to take care of her.

Rebecca and Bridgette were rather close.

They had spent every summer together, in some different way shape or form, since they were four years old.

Sometimes, they were like sisters.

It was close to evening when Rebecca began to wonder if Bridgette was going to show up… Rebecca had been there since early morning.

But just as her anxiousness began to eat at her mind, she heard a knock at the door. It was so soft, at first she wondered if she had heard it at all.

But a second set followed.

Rebecca hopped up right off the couch and jumped to the door, though pulled it open casually. Her jaw dropped when she saw the Bridgette.

She wasn't at all like she had been before…

Now, cloaked in black and burgundy with a mess of jewelry, she looked anything but like the average girl Rebecca had known before…

"Damn. I was hoping I was in the wrong place."

Two local boys walking past had there eyes glued to the strange Bridgette.

"Ah… uh… um… Hell... o…" was the collection of syllables Rebecca was able to choke out.

"Hello, Stranger." Bridgette said, smirking at her joke. It had been a long running joke, ever since they were little… Bridgette to Rebecca's greeting.

"Come… come in." Rebecca moved out of the way, allowing Bridgette into the house. Bridgette fell limply into a chair, showing awful posture.

"Um… Yeah… Bridgette, you've changed?" Rebecca said, sitting on the couch a bit away from her.

"Yep," Bridgette smirked. "I grew some… people do that, you know."

At least Bridgette's sarcasm was still the same.

"Oh… yes…" Rebecca looked away at her shoes… this was going to be a long summer.

… She didn't know the half of it.

After dinner, the cousins found themselves at the sink… washing dishes.

They were here to take care of their Grand Aunt, were they not?

The cling and clatter and soaking wet aprons marked the occasion… where Bridgette washed and Rebecca dried.

"Last hand full…" Bridgette said, pulling up a hand full of silverware. She scrubbed them and extended her arm to Rebecca, but stopped and dropped the forks and spoons and one knife with a soft cry.

The damp eating utensils clattered to the floor.

Rebecca saw the blood.

Bridgette pulled off the yellow plastic glove, her hand free to the air. A deep, dark, bloody gash spread a crossed her hand.

"Damn…" she muttered, turning on the faucet and running some water over it… it was a nasty cut; deep and big, right a crossed the palm.

"Oh… my…" Rebecca said in a shrilled breathy voice. "I'll get some bandages…" her voice shook.

Rebecca dashed from the room. Bridgette held her hand over the sink, watching the blood pour out. "Hurry up, it's bleeding fast!" she called out to Rebecca, and then heard foot steps over her head.

Just a few minutes later, Rebecca returned with bandages, a square piece of fresh white cloth, and a safety pin.

"Thanks…" Bridgette said, keeping her voice steady. Together, the cousins bandaged up the wound.

After her hand had been carefully secured, she store at the bandaged thing for a long time.

"Sure you're alright?" Rebecca asked.

"Peachy…" Bridgette muttered in her typically sarcastic way, wincing in pain as she messed with her injured hand, testing what it could and could not do.

Rebecca glanced at the clock… 11:02.

Due to Bridgette's late arrival, dinner hadn't been until 8:00pm. With the chatting and the eating and the dishes and the injury, the time had gone by fast.

"We'd better get to bed now…" Rebecca muttered, still staring at the clock.

"Ah?" came a strange noise from Bridgette lips. "It aint that late… only eleven."

"Yes…" Rebecca said slowly. "_But_, Grand Aunt likes to get up at six… A.M… as in, dawn-ish."

"Oooooh no." Bridgette moaned. "You _cannot_ be serious…"

"Dead."

It was that night, that something stirred in her.

Bridgette a woke with a gasp, in a quick _whoosh_. As if she had been in a nightmare… but she retraced the bits of dream she could remember.

They bared no resemblance to a nightmare.

She glanced to her right, a crossed a night stand and some empty space, where Rebecca lay snuggled in her bed.

She glared at the clock on the nightstand… 2:56 a.m… almost three… not the time to be a wake.

So why was she?

Oh yes! The strange feeling in her stomach… the strange feeling in her stomach, the strange feeling as if someone was calling her… beckoning her… the strange feeling that made the skin on her spine skin crawl.

Someone was beckoning her, alright.

Beckoning her with no words… but she could hear them. These non-existent words, like someone showing her the way. And before she knew it, she was crawling out of bed… and when she did know it, she didn't try to change it.

She walked, her bare feet silent against the wooden floors, to the door. Pulling it open slowly, so not to make a sound, she stepped through and began her way down the hall.

To the stare way, then slowly and silently down the old wooden stairs with the ugly patterned forest green carpet thrown over them, and through the living room, through the dinning room, with only a sideward glance into the den, then into the kitchen…

Bridgette stopped there, remembering how she had been cut and looked at her bandaged hand. She wondered how the poor cut looked under them, but didn't dare check.

Though soon, in a dizzy whoosh, she remembered the feeling… the beckoning.

She walked her graceful way up to the back door… she opened the actual door silently, then stood at the screen door and looked at the corn field.

_ Nebraska_, she though. And almost laughed aloud.

She began to push at the knob of the screen door, and then stopped. Was this really such a good idea? To follow this strange beckoning out side in the middle of the night warring only a black pair of panties and an aqua/teal colored half-sleeved shirt?

But then again… since when was she one to chicken out?

So, with a brush of her hair, she placed her hands again on the knob and pushed. It wasn't until after she had pushed so that she realized the old screen door should squeak with rust… it was too late!

Although, to her surprise, it slid open silently.

Though she didn't spend too much time dwelling on her surprise. She stepped outside, and felt as if she were stepping into a completely different world.

Her long hair was now free to the wind. She would have imagined it would have blow wild, like crazy, all around. But, as apposed, the breeze was gentle. Her hair only ruffled lightly.

She stepped off of the small cube of a back porch, her bare feet feeling soft, damp grass beneath them.

It all felt so nice.

She looked up, the night sky was clear… with a half circle shaped glowing moon up above with little bright dots like diamond all around.

As if sand were diamonds that had been sprinkled among the heavens.

Bridgette smirked… she never smiled, only smirked… and returned her gaze forward. But as she laid eyes upon the corn, a gust from her left came and blew her long hair into her face.

She turned to face the wind, blowing the hair from her face. But the air dried and stung her eyes, forcing her to blink several times…

Then she felt it again… the strangeness in her stomach. The beckoning? No. Just the strangeness… which made it even stranger.

And suddenly, her skin crawled like it does when someone is staring at you, and she knew there was a presence behind her.

Her eyes narrowed, bringing her thin blonde brows closer to them.

Her lack of trust kicked in.

She jerked around as suddenly as she could without losing her balance, extending her right arm so if this presence was with in range it would, no doubt, hit them and hit them hard…

But no. She jerked all the way around with no interference.

But stopped short when she saw the presence… the presence behind her… and lost all of her edge.

The red-ish pumpkin lips parted and her mouth agar slightly. She stumbled back and fell, landing hard on her hands and bottom.

The pain shot up her arms and back but she ignored it completely, she had not the ability to pay attention to anything besides what was before her.

This… was who had beckoned her.


	2. Flickering That Night

Rebecca's eyes fluttered open, like black shredded butterflies being ripped in two halves.

She was still cuddled up tightly under her purple and white flowered quilt, her lemon-water-yellow teddy bear still hugged tightly in her arms.

She sat up sidey ways, setting the doll aside. And looked around the room… something was amiss.

That's when she saw Bridgette's bed… the stone grey quilt thrown a side, the crisp white pillow had fallen to the floor, and Bridgette was no where to be seen.

But where could she have gone?

Rebecca glanced at the clock, 3:03 a.m.

_Perhaps she needed a drink… or had to use the rest room..._, Rebecca thought up several logical scenarios.

She looked out the window… the bright moon shined straight threw. So clear and bright. But so strange… something possessed Rebecca to go to the window.

She pushed her blanket aside completely, and pulled her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet touched the floor.

"_Oh!_" the soft voice escaped her lips. It was cold… icy cold.

She took only a few second to pull her pieces back together and brace herself for the icy floor.

_I thought it was supposed to be hot during the summer_, she thought. Maybe just a little bitterly.

She stood beside her bed; her long white nightgown fell to her ankles. She walked around, and past her bed… past the space inbetween, then pass Bridgette's, then into the nook made by the closet to her left.

She glanced it… her pink denim coat, Bridgette's black trench coat, three of her skirts, a collection of around twelve of Bridgette's skirts, five of her dresses, and two of Bridgette's dresses. A nice collection.

But _Boy Oh Boy_ did their sense of fashion differ.

She turned her eyes forward again, and took the four or five steps to the window. The window wasn't big, a normal hole in the wall. Though it was round, this was different in Rebecca's opinion, anyway.

She glanced out… and nearly gasped aloud.

There was Bridgette… out side… at this time of night… warring just that. She was sitting… sitting on the little stub of a back porch… and…

_Wait..._, Rebecca thought, _is she… she's… she's… Bridgette is_ flickering_!_

Rebecca couldn't believe her eyes… Bridgette was sitting right there, and she flickered… like a TV or a computer image would, if the power were being messed with. Bridgette flickered.

Though the scene may have lasted a total of four of five or six seconds.

Then she stood up… and a full smile spread over her pumpkin colored lips… but dropped quickly. She turned her head, and looked straight at the window… the glass… as if she _knew_ Rebecca was there!

Rebecca gasped and jumped back… she stood as still as ice, as if she were a statue frozen in time, for a good long minute, trying to sort out what to do next.

All logic had about been thrown out the window at this point.

Rebecca began to step back… walking backward… until she was at her bed… she walked to where she had been sitting up in bed, and sat there with her legs crossed, the blankets still thrown a side, she hugged her yellow bear tight in her arms.

… And waited for Bridgette's foot steps to come up the stairs.

.

It was only a few minutes before the door came open.

Rebecca hadn't even heard any of the doors open and close, hadn't heard Bridgette's steps on the stairs, nothing. Not even the door to her very room open.

"Becky…?" Bridgette said, staring at her through the dark.

She seemed about the same.

Bridgette rushed some over to her bed, clicking on the little bed-side lamp that was between them, she sat at her bed, showing off her typical horrible posture, this time leaning forward. She set both of her arms at her side, gripping the side of her mattress gently.

"Becky? Is something wrong? What's wrong with you?"

"You were outside… I saw you." Rebecca said softly, not looking at Bridgette.

"Yeah… so?" Bridgette asked, her stare unwavering.

"Why?" Rebecca tried to keep her voice steady and blank.

"Why not?" Bridgette shot back, and then snickered some. "But no, for real. I was feeling a little nauseous. I needed some fresh air."

"You were flickering…"

"_What?!_"

"You… Bridgette… you flickered. I saw you."

"Rebecca, you gotta be kiddin' me!" Bridgette laughed. "You're not serious? Are you?"

"Actually, I am." Rebecca looked at Bridgette for the first time, a little of her long orange hair fell in her face. "You were flickering… I saw you."

Silence.

"Man… you really are serious…" Bridgette spoke softly. She pulled herself back into bed more, and sat with her legs crossed in front of her, her hands now rapped around one leg. "Ok… let's say I was "flickering"… you probably dreamed it."

"I didn't dream it!" Rebecca said powerfully, but still in almost a whisper. "I know I didn't. I _felt_ the floor, I _felt_ how cold it is, I _felt_ the glass, and I _felt_ the sill."

"Ok then…" Bridgette thought again, strand of her long hair fell in her face. She was so cool… so calm… so melancholy… so blank. "Maybe it was the wind… or the night, the night loves to play tricks on people…"

"But it's a perfectly clear night."

"Well, then, maybe it was the tree… there's a tree right out side that window. Maybe the wind blew the tree branches, and they caused shadows, and the shadows made it _look_ like that."

"It's possible…" Rebecca said softly, giving up her surety. Maybe it _was_ a mistake.

"A lot more possible then me flickering…" Bridgette said, a dab of her old sarcasm mixed in.

"Yeah… you're right." Rebecca muttered… the truth was, she didn't know if she believed it or not.

"Good. Can we go to sleep now?"

"Yeah," Rebecca said, laying back down and pulling the covers up to her chin.

Bridgette turned off the light… and that was the end of it.

Or so Rebecca thought…

.

The next few days… three days, to be exact… went by.

It seemed nothing was strange… nothing amiss… to Rebecca. Except… Bridgette. Her behavior was different… different then Rebecca remembered.

For the first part, she was ten times quieter. She seemed drawn and to herself. Perhaps, even, secretive.

She spent way less time with Rebecca then she could have thought… together, the cousins did all the chores. Washing dishes, hanging laundry, preparing meals, cleaning everything… but when they weren't doing the necessaries, Bridgette didn't spend much time with Rebecca.

And, all color had vanished from Bridgette's attire.

She now wore a form-fitting black shirt with a low collar, elbow-length sleeves, and scrunchiness under the breast... and she never wore her hair up anymore…

And, still to add to the list of strange things, she had begun a little group of local children… although, there weren't that many people in the small town… Your basic tiny farming community, right?

But still… Bridgette now had quite a few "friends".

But these "friends"… there was something strange about them. They seemed a pack, but if you watched them--- I mean really, watch them--- it seemed they all followed Bridgette… like she was their leader or something.

As cruel as it sounds, Rebecca would have thought they all would have shunned Bridgette as a witch or something…

But that clearly wasn't the case.

Although, from the adults, she had heard many stories about her dear cousin… the Monroe sisters, who were now just three old ladies, bickered between them that Bridgette was a witch… but, to Rebecca at least, it seemed everyone had their own tale about Bridgette.

How strange, it all seemed to Rebecca… strange, but not unexpected, with one dressing like her dear cousin in such a small religious town.

But they were just rumors, right? Perhaps Bridgette was merely winning over the hick children with things not of small country life, and the adults only found her appearance strange… perhaps, she win them all over eventually…

Right?

Wrong.

.

Rebecca never saw it coming.

No one did.

Rebecca never saw it coming… not even after that night in the corn field.

But you don't know about that night in the corn field, yet… do you?

Of course not. Allow us to educate you.

.

It was that very night… after three days time had passed since the first night, when Rebecca could have sworn she saw Bridgette flickering.

We've already caught you up, have we not?

Well good, then let's get on with it.

It was night, again, but not late, some time after sun down, even before the smaller children went to bed.

Rebecca was playing with the closet… trying on an assortment of clothes, just because.

At the current time, she had on a pain red skirt that hung to her ankles with a puffy white sleeveless blouse. Her hair was down. She was adoring herself in the mirror.

That was when she saw it, a flickering light, in the corn field… some-what far out.

Rebecca had been caught by it for a moment, and stood staring over her shoulder at it… before she had half way turned, and walked to the window sill… gazing out at the dark but early night.

Flickering… flickering light.

Something… something in her stomach… a gut feeling… told her to investigate.

So, in a spontaneous rush, she dashed from the room… down the hall, down the stairs, where she stopped to quickly throw on her flick-flops, then through the rest of the rooms, into the kitchen, and slowed dramatically by the back door.

She stopped at its presence, not admiring it… but thinking of what it meant.

Things weren't normal with Rebecca… to her, everything meant something. Nothing was as it seems.

There was no time for this, she realized, and yanked at the knob, pulling it back, the door came wide open, she fled through without so much as even closing it… though she heard the old rusty screen door squeak loudly to a banging close on it's own.

Rebecca resumed her dash.

She dash through the back yard, the lush green grass tickling her ankles. She dashed pass the huge oak, withered and ugly with time. She dashed straight into the corn field.

She was running through it, running straight forward, when she stopped… and realized what she was doing.

She analyzed the situation again.

It wasn't a very good idea to just jet straight through and right on into whatever was the cause of the flickering light. She ought to slowly approach.

… And so she did.

She crept slowly threw the rows, quietly brushing aside the stocks, when she began to hear voices.

They were mummers at first, but as she drew closer, they grew clearer.

Rebecca crouched close to the ground, and came almost to the edge of where a circular clearing began.

She looked past the few stocks in her way and bit her lip.

Inside the clearing, there was Bridgette. There was Bridgette and her collection of village kids.

Good _God_ she had a lot of kiddy friends.

Rebecca remained as quiet as she could, stressing--- even though she didn't have to--- to hear their every word.

The kids all sat in a circle on the ground, all gathered around a dim and dull fire. They sat with their legs crossed. Bridgette stood above them, at the far end of the clearing from Rebecca. She looked so much like their leader like that.

Bridgette was saying something, but by the time Rebecca had managed to toon in, she was no longer speaking.

"Yeah? Then what have we been doing these past few days?" a skinny boy, about Bridgette and Rebecca's age, demanded. He had white/blonde hair that curled delicately around his pale face, and icy blue eyes like crystalized glass. He dressed in an tight-fitting orange button-up shirt, long sleeves folded up to his elbows, the first button or two undone, and the earholders of relfective black sunglasses clipped to his front pocket... with this; brown pants and a black belt. Rebecca had to admit; he was rather attractive.

"_We?_" Bridgette hissed. "You mean, what have He and I been doing… we have been _gathering!_ Did you think the soldiers of He just appear out of no where? No. You were mistaken, _David_. We have been gathering… gathering together."

"Yes, that's all well and good…" a short, red haired girl of about twelve spoke now. "But what about our mission… when are we to begin?"

"Dearest Abigail…" Bridgette paused for effect. "_Do not _doubt… He Who Walks Behind the Rows would not summon us without need… He is with us, and He beckons our patience… There is much to be done, and He will show us when it is time."

"If He _is_ as you say," David chimed. "then why would He Who Walks Behind the Rows choose _you_? A woman… and a naive woman, at that."

Bridgette shot a glance at him that turned Rebecca's heart to ice… she had never seen such a glare before… it was pure malice. "Is someone a tad bit jealous?" Bridgette smirked and snickered. "Question not He, for He will always make his judgment known. He works not without purpose."

"What must we do before our sign come?" a blonde boy with a face full of freckles of the age of about eight asked.

"Wait…" Bridgette said simply. "We wait, and we gathered whom He beckons. He will tell us when it is time… and our work, as the loyal children of He, shall be carried out. Simple as that."

She said the last part so slowly… so painfully slowly.

.

The next day came and saw Rebecca.

Rebecca was seriously messed up by what she had seen.

Logic was everything to Rebecca. She believed that, no matter what, if one had logic and if one were able to think everything through, they'd be alright.

But this wasn't logical.

She tried to sort it out, tried to put the pieces together. It just didn't seem right… who was "He"… what was their "mission"… why were they banning together like that? Was Bridgette really their leader? Was thing connected to the previous strange events?

It just didn't add up.

Rebecca thought about it all the time, all night, all the next day, it plagued her mind the whole day through. These questions with no answers.

But Rebecca came to her own conclusion, non-the-less.

The first explanation; she hadn't seen what she thought she saw… perhaps it was a dream, or a hallucination… certainly not a whole bunch of kids led by her cousin speaking of someone they called "He" commanding them on some sort of mission.

The second, and final; that she hadn't seen anything, at all. That it had never happened, never been. She merely dismissed it, as non-existent.

Although, Rebecca wasn't the type to just dismiss things.

But it seemed the right thing to do, here, now didn't it?

… That was, most likely, why she never expected it.

But then again, even if she had not dismissed it, I strongly doubt she would have been able to guess.

No one would have been able to guess.

And no one would have been able to stop them…


	3. The Beginning

"What's wrong with you?" Rebecca asked, turning to face her cousin.

"Wha?" Bridgette groaned, feverishly itching at her wrist.

"You… Bridgette… wrong, with… what?"

"Nothin'."

"Then why can't you stop itching at your bandages like that?"

"I don't know… because they _itch_, maybe?"

"Does it itch where the wound is?"

"No."

"Then just your wrist?"

"Yeah," Bridgette smirked again. "What are you, Dr. Becky?"

"Nope," Rebecca smiled proudly. "I'm a reporter. Rebecca Stepp with Really Important News Station."

They laughed.

Bridgette spotted a kid standing, staring at her, in the corner… a coldness grew in her eyes. "Excuse me… I have someone to talk to."

And with that, she slinked away like a cat stalking a mouse.

Rebecca store for a minute… confused slightly by the quick change in her cousin. The strangeness stung her again and she felt a deep uneasiness in her heart.

_Turn away_, she instructed herself. But someone loomed behind her as she turned right into them, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

The boy laughed.

Yes, a boy… about Rebecca's age, maybe a year older, with straight mid-ear-length tawny colored hair, sparkly eyes, and a goofy/happy-go-lucky smile. That was all. Nothing to fear...

"I'm sorry," he said. His manner of dress (an over-sized white button-up shirt that looked more like it was his father's then his own and brown suspenders) immediately struck her as that he was from here. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Scare me?" Rebecca said strangeishly. "You didn't scare me… I… I was merely shocked."

"Well then… sorry for "shocking" you."

"Apology accepted." Rebecca began to turn away.

"Hey wait," he said, grasping her shoulder.

She stopped, and half turned to look at him.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Rebecca… Stepp."

"Mathew Tilton."

"Good day, Mathew." She began to turn again.

"Wait, please," he held her shoulder still. "C'mon, you're the only kid left in this town besides me who isn't under your sisters' creepy spell."

Rebecca turned to face him completely. "My sister? You mean Bridgette. She's not my sister, she's my cousin… though everyone tells us we mine as well be sisters."

"Why?" He said bluntly. "… I see no similarities."

"We're very much the same, trust me." Rebecca said quickly. "But just one thing… You said her "spell"… what did you mean?"

Mathew shrugged. "I don't know… it's like she has a spell on everybody or something. They all following her."

"Following her for what?" Rebecca became desperate. "Do you know what's going on? Do you? If you do, you _have_ to tell me!"

"_Whoa_… Slow down, Rebecca," He put both hands on her shoulders. "What are you talkin' about? "What's going on"…? Your cousin--- Bridgette, you said? --- she has a lot of friend, yes… but I don't think there's much more to it."

Rebecca lost her hope.

"I'm sorry…" She said softly, and then tried to turn away again.

"Could you hold still for ten seconds, please?"

She sighed a hefty sigh.

"If there _is_ something going on here… we should stick together, don't you think? Friends?"

Rebecca nodded. "Friends."

He nodded, and allowed her to go now, walking away himself.

Rebecca had made her first friend in the small town Nebraska… and if Bridgette kept acting strangely, she'd need one.

"_What was that about_?" hissed a stranger's familiar voice.

Rebecca jumped and turned around. "_Bridgette_… You-"

"Scared you?" a pause. "I scared you."

Rebecca nodded.

"Yeah… you scared me, Bridgette."

_You seem scare me a lot, lately…_

.

Bridgette walked, so headstrong.

Her creamy pale face looked so devilish, but so damn good. Her eyes were crystal and confident, her pumpkin colored lips in a small smirk that only twisted the corner of her mouth. She seemed to lurk, but walked so confident and strong.

She'd never felt so good… and it would only get better.

Night had fallen, and darkness was all around, yet she seemed so animated in the dull surroundings.

It wasn't that cold... But for some reason, she chose to ware her black trench coat on this night, wide open.

She walked through the stalks of corn, but it seemed she swayed with them… as if they had some unseen bond.

She was nearing their clearing.

She stepped onto it, out of the rows, as if stepping into a completely different place. A breeze brush her hair back off her face and her smirk grew full.

She moved to the back of the circle, where it was her place to stand… to stand as their leader. She loved it.

Soon, the other gathered, and they were all there.

Everyone.

"My brothers and sisters," Bridgette began in a powerful voice, turning to face the masses. "we have gathered here for the past few nights… and here, on the fourth night, I bring great news."

"News from He?" a small girl of about seven or eight asked, with blue eyes lit up wide.

"Yes!" Bridgette's eyes lit up, as well. "He Who Walks Behind the Rows has spoken to me since last we met…"

All the children now store forward with interest, quiet and obedient servants of He.

Bridgette looked at all of them as she spoke, glare at left and right and inbetween. She was damn good at what she was doing.

"On this," Bridgette began. "a still day, He whispered to me on a breeze… He spoke to me, reminding me of all that must be done… He spoke of our mission and of us… and He told me what we must do."

"Does this mean…" the boy with the face full of freckles began, but did not finish.

They all knew what he meant.

"Yes…" Bridgette hissed. Everyone smiled wide… even Bridgette. "Yes! He Who Walks Behind the Rows has given us our calling! He beckons us now! The time is now, and we are to begin immediately! Brothers and sisters, the children of He, hear me now, for I speak of our beginning, our rein… It has… begun."

A cheer from the crowd of children rose.

… And so it was.

.

The first death went almost unnoticed.

Rebecca never would have known… had it not been for the crowd.

As in any small town, anything different will draw a crowd… though, the crowd was small, it still caught attention.

Rebecca and Bridgette had been out walking… on their way to quickly grab a carton of eggs… when Rebecca saw the crowd.

A small crowd it was, yes, but still a crowd.

She stopped in her tracks, and Bridgette stopped only a few footsteps a head of her. She gave Rebecca a glare that so clearly said _"What?"_, and then followed her glance.

Bickering words spread through the crowd, but Rebecca couldn't hear them from her distance.

"Come on," she said softly, giving Bridgette's sleeve a little tug, and then went along to the crowd.

Bridgette followed without protest.

The girls made their way through the crowd, and got right up front. Rebecca tooned out the noise of the locals chatter.

One police man was outside, next to a van with the back doors open wide. He was the police captain Leon.

Next, two other police men came from the house.

… That meant, three of the five cops in the small hick town were out there…

They came with a stretcher. There was something on the stretcher… someone. A pale, shriveled, old hand hung out from under the white blanket thrown over the body… lifeless.

Rebecca looked at Bridgette… the coldness in her eyes was so strong… and the look on her face... her head was tipped down and her eyes looked up in a menacing way… besides that, she was so blank… it frightened Rebecca.

She glanced at a boy standing next to the porch of the house… it was the blonde boy with the freckled face. He had the same look on his face… except he store straight forward.

They looked at each other… Bridgette nodded… then the little boy nodded… as if in reply.

Rebecca's heart filled with terror.

She looked up at the police captain. And, with a bouncing start, she ran to him… tapping him on the arm. 

"Captain Leon, Captain Leon…" she repeated his name until he looked at her.

The captain was a tired looking man… he was 30-35… not very old. Yet his hair was bolding quite much. The hair that was left was fire red. He looked down at her with hard, cold blue eyes.

"Little Ms. Rebecca…" he addressed her. "How can I help you?"

"Could you… Please… tell me what's happening here?"

"The old man here… died, in his sleep, last night." Said the captain. He looked sadly at the freckled boy. "Poor Tobin… he's now an orphan, without his Grandpa."

Rebecca looked back at the boy… Tobin.

"T-thank you, Sir…" she said without looking back at the captain, her voice stuttering softly. She walked back to Bridgette… slightly buzzed, but not suspecting a thing.

Though she did find it slightly odd… the stare shared between the two members of this group on such an occasion.

But there was something very odd with this whole group, in the first place.

Tobin smiled inside, and pictures flashed… his memory. He remembered getting up so late at night, dressed in the same pajama's he wore now, and picking up the crisp white pillow… walking down the long dark hall… opening the door to his Grandpa's room… stepping in so silently… being right up next to the bed… pressing the pillow over his Grandpa's face… pressing down, holding it there… suffocating his Grandfather.

The poor old man hadn't even woken up…

And no one would suspect the sweet, innocent little boy… left behind as a _ victim_. Infact, his Grandpa's death would be ruled as natural causes… a heart attack.

And no one would ever know…

At least, no one would ever know… until it was too late.

.

It was about 3:45… p.m.

Rebecca was outside, soaking up the sun, as she hung laundry.

The cousins were supposed to be doing it together… but they had previously had a break, and Bridgette had not come back.

Not yet, anyway.

But Rebecca didn't mind that much. It was a lovely day, the warm sun had just yet begun to dip… it drenched it's lemon juice colored light all over everything, causing everything to light up golden and have that beautiful discolorment. And, a soft cool breeze brushed through the air… so gentle and mild, with the lovely sent of fresh air upon it.

Rebecca had dressed to match… in the lightest thing she could find: a bright yellow sleeveless dress that hung loose but tightly on her and buttoned up the front. It didn't even reach her knees. And, she allowed her hair to hang free and long to blow in the breeze… 

Such a lovely dress for such a lovely day.

These were the days Rebecca loved the best… her feet bare in the cool grass. She didn't even mind hanging laundry… the white things heavy with water sprinkled sometimes on her flesh and the breeze blown against her made her feel cool.

She was hanging up a huge white bed sheet when the corn field caught her eyes…

The lowering sun hit the corn just right and it was alive with color as a beautiful golden sea that swept on forever, glistening and shinning golden rays so bright and beautiful.

It caught Rebecca off guard, and took her breath away. She could do nothing but stand and watch it's magnificence before her…

But soon, something else took her breath away… as her lungs clotted up and she felt cold all over with fear.

Tobin… he stood behind the first row of corn… watching her. Watching her with that look on his face.

_Breathe_…, she told herself, _ …breathe… keep breathing…that's it, Rebecca…_

She clipped the wooden clip up on the edge of the blanket, finishing its hanging, then dropped her arms to her sides and stepped away from the line.

"Tobin…?" she said gently, taking a step toward him. He cringed and almost took a step back.

Was _he_ scaredof _her_?

"Tobin…" she repeated. "That's your name… right?"

He stood still for a long time--- what seemed like eternity--- then nodded.

"Mine is Rebecca… I'm Bridgette's cousin. You know Bridgette… I know you know Bridgette. I'm her cousin."

She took another step toward him… this time, he stepped back.

"Don't be afraid… please… don't run away from me."

But it was too late, she took one more step and the kid burst into a run in the corn.

Rebecca ran after him. "Wait… Please! Wait! Stop!"

She chased after him… he kept looking back… looking back… smiling… making sure she was still following.

He wanted her to follow him.

But right then, she didn't care what he wanted. "Stop! Please! Tobin! Tobin, stop! Please! Please stop, Tobin!"

He wasn't listening. She knew that. It didn't stop her… just as her cries didn't stop him.

"Please! Please, Tobin! The corn… the corn stocks, they're scratching me!"

She began to run full speed, trying to gain on him… stopping her protest. He wasn't going to listen to her no matter what she said… No matter what.

He looked back and giggled. She reached for him… her fingers were just a little out of reach, he was _so_ close!

_Stretch_… and stretch she did.

She was so close… so close… The clearing!  
The clearing, she realized, just then, was just a head… he was bringing her to their clearing.

He entered the clearing first… and a corn leaf slapped Rebecca in the eyes just when he passed through the line between corn and clearing… she didn't see him pass.

She stopped once she knew she was in the clearing, and rubbed her sore eyes.

She opened them… and looked out around her. She didn't see Tobin… he wasn't there. He wasn't in the clearing.

Rebecca stepped farther in… almost to the center, and looked around in circles.

"Tobin…" she called out his name. "Tobin… Tobin, where are you?"

Then she heard a rustling in the corn near by...

She looked. It rustled again… to her left… then rustled forward from her. Then rustling to the left again.

She listened… and her heart froze.

Rebecca stopped breathing… she could have sworn she stopped breathing.

The rustling, the rustling to the left… it wasn't Tobin. It couldn't have been Tobin… Tobin was small, only eight years old… he couldn't make it rustle like that. This rustle rustled as if the wind blew hard on it… but the wind blowing hard on only one place? And the breeze that day… it was too soft to make it rustle like that. It could only make the corn sway gently…

Oh, no. Tobin was not making this rustling.

But if he wasn't… Who was?

Rebecca turned towards it… facing what had previously been her left… she took a step back, a step away from it… and then another…

What ever it was, it was coming towards her… coming towards her, and fast!

She heard it rustle again… so close… almost there!

She cringed… and waited for it to break through.

And so it did…

She almost screamed, it burst through… and came straight at her! And stopped… right in front of her.

"Bridgette!" she cried out… terror and relief slit her. "Bridgette! Bridgette! Jesus Christ! You scared me to death!"

"I am sorry." Bridgette said. She stood right in front of Rebecca, so blank.

"It's alright…" Rebecca sighed.

"What are you doing out here?" Bridgette asked, lowering an eye brow.

"What… I…" Rebecca stopped, and thought. "Oh! Yeah… Tobin, the little boy whose Grandfather died last night… I saw him. I was trying to talk to him, but he was running… running here. So I chased after him… didn't you see him?"

"No." Bridgette answered, blank again.

"You didn't?"

"No."

"How…" Rebecca stopped… and sighed. And, reached out, she touched her cousin's face, then pulled her hand back… slightly shocked. "Why is your face all wet?"

Wet… damp.

"I got a little dirty… had to wash up."

Bridgette smirked… _How did I get dirty?_, she thought… and laughed inside. _Let's see… how did I get dirty._

She smiled inside… but remained blank out… and retraced her memories back to what she had been doing this whole time.


	4. Putting the Pieces Together

Judy Monroe walked up the steps of her front porch, up to the house the three sisters owned together, shared.

All three sisters were widows.

Judy was the youngest, at 63. But it didn't mean she wasn't a tired old woman… with wirery light gray hair to her shoulders and the iciest blue eyes, she was delicate and airy… and always wore white.

She wasn't one for dresses, either… which was her one strong hold on being strange for this sleepy little farming community.

Her house strongly resembled a beach house… it was freshly painted white and just airy and comfortable… Judy's style, I guess.

Judy fiddled with her keys, trying to find the right one without loosing her large sun hat to the breeze. Eventually, she did, of course, and brought it to the door… placing it in, she tried to unlock the door and became confused on why it wouldn't work… before she realized it was already open.

"Now that's odd…" Judy muttered to herself, staring at her key and the partly open door. "I could have sworn I locked it when I left…"

She felt a little distressed… but she would survive.

Pushing in, she stepped through the door into the large house and locked it behind her… Yeah, she was a little paranoid.

But once the door was safely locked behind her, she smiled and threw her things down. Her purse on the coffee table, her coat onto a chair, ect., feeling comfortable in her own house once again.

Everything seemed well… until she heard a creek in the kitchen.

"Mara… Lanii…" she called the names of her sisters. "Is that you?"

No answer.

But another creek… a cabinet door opening in the kitchen.

"Lanii… Mara… I'm serious; if that's you… stop foolin' around."

Judy began to walk towards the kitchen… she didn't believe it was one of her sisters. Someone was in her house! Someone else…

Judy's heart thudded hard in her chest… _I'm getting too old for this_, she thought… somewhat bitterly.

"Mara… Lanii… I me—" the cabinet door slammed shut all at once, interrupting her and causing her to jump half way out of her skin.

This definitely wasn't one of her sisters.

"Alright… that's it…" she said, trying to sound powerful, slowly taking steps silently toward the kitchen. "Who's there? Who is it? Who's there?"

Who was in her house?

No answer.

Closer and closer Judy crept… nearing the kitchen. Nearer and nearer. Silent.

She extended her arm, one frail hand touched the door frame… she couldn't help but think of how ugly her hands were… covered in old people skin. She missed the days of her youth…

"Who's there?" she called, sort of quietly… trying to sound like she was farther away. "Who ever it is, I'm calling the cops!"

Judy stepped closer to the door frame, until she was almost in it.

"I mean it!"

Still no answer.

She took a deep breath… fear chocked her old throat… then, she peered around to see who was in her house.

She saw the cabinet… who ever it was; they had slammed the door so hard it came right back open… Her old eyes scanned the area.

No one.

She stepped around the door frame, into the kitchen. No one…

Judy looked around… but something furry brushed against her ankles. She gasped and looked down… just a cat.

A cat? A fuzzy little kitty.

That was the perpetrator… a stupid old cat.

Judy had forgotten she owned a cat… you'd be surprised how easily old people forget things… like their memory is first to go or something.

"Oh! Trixie, dear, you scared the dickens out of me!" Judy cried, picking up the pretty little kitty. "Well… I can clearly see you're sorry."

Trixie meowed in a pussy cat reply.

Judy set the cat down, and fixed a little packet of soft cat food open and into Trixie's cat bowl. 

"There you go…" Judy smiled, and turned away from the cat.

She began her way out of the kitchen when she stopped… from where she stood, she could see the front door… it was straight a crossed from her. You see, it was from living room to kitchen, with a downstairs bath room off to the side inbetween them.

And from there… she could see, clear as day, the front door.

And her front door… hung open.

Judy store at it for a long time… shocked. She could have sworn she locked that… though when she thought about it logically, it only seemed right that she had forgotten to… as old people do.

She calmed herself with that barely comforting thought, and walked all the way back to it.

Judy closed the door, and made sure to double lock it this time.

She took two or three steps back from it, admiring the locks, and nodded to herself.

_That should do it…_, she thought. And began to walk back towards the kitchen.

Judy didn't watch where she was walking… but, instead, looked over her shoulder and almost behind her, watching the door. She was almost to the place where the bath room was off to her left, when she turned to look in front of her.

Judy stopped dead in her tracks and gasped, staring at the sight before her.

Bridgette stood in front of her… tall and plain, with a blank face… and a loaded pistol in hand… aimed straight at Judy's forehead.

Judy was very tall and very long… Bridgette was about a foot and a half, maybe more, shorter then her… so the gun was posed upward.

"Bang…" Bridgette pulled the trigger… the real _bang_ shattered through the air… not to mention straight through Judy Monroe's head (right inbetween the eyes). Bridgette smirked. "… You're dead."

.

The body would be discovered less then two hours later.

Discovered by the Monroe sister Mara… the eldest.

Rebecca would be part of that crowd, this time, too… as she would discover it while out walking to a store or something rather of, as they found they would do just about every day.

The crowd was, of course, gathered around the Monroes' front porch.

Bridgette had felt slightly unwell, so Rebecca had gone out alone.

Now, the little crowd… only slightly bigger then Tobin's Grandpa's crowd… caught Rebecca's attention.

_Oh no! Not again..._, was the first thing that popped in Rebecca's mind.

She dashed over, a crossed the street, straight into the crowd… though this crowd wasn't as willing as the last… Rebecca was late and Rebecca was small… they made it very hard to push through.

So, instead, Rebecca jumped up and up and up again and again at the back of the crowd… trying to look over people's heads.

She saw the police men wheeling the body out of the house… the cloth over the head of the body was all ready covered in blood.

Rebecca went around to the side of the crowd, which went right up against the side of the house, and tried to jump see over them. It was easier there.

She watched them wheel the body into the back of a van… just like Tobin's Grandpa… but this time, the police captain--- Officer Leon--- began to instruct the men on something.

This was a murder… Rebecca suddenly realized. Tobin's Grandpa had died of "natural caused"… but this… this was a murder. And an investigation was to be held.

Rebecca was thinking these thoughts when the window caught her eye… it was the window closest to her… broken open. That must have been how the murderer got in… but something was hanging off on a piece of glass still in the sill.

Rebecca walked up to it… the thing was on the inside of the window.

She reached in, grasping the strip in her hand, and pulled it off the glass without tarring it.

Rebecca looked at it… and felt her throat tighten and knot up… felt her heart run cold with fear…

The thing caught in the piece of glass in the window sill… was a piece of cloth. A piece of bandage…

A piece of bandage the same as the one clad to Bridgette's injured hand.

.

Night fall.

What a busy it had been… but now things slowed.

_Thank God_, Rebecca thought, as she walked through her Grand Aunt Tammy's great big old house. Rebecca usually liked this house… but right now, with that strip of bandage lying in her box of precious things on the nightstand next to her bed, she just didn't feel right.

But she was ignoring that… for it was all she could do. Besides, Bridgette would never _kill_ anyone.

No matter how freaky or _weird _her "group" was… Bridgette would never kill anyone… Being weird didn't make a person (or group of persons) a killer.

Speaking of Bridgette; Rebecca weakly pushed open the door to the upstairs bathroom. Bridgette stood in front of the sink, already in her night clothes. She was redressing her wounded hand…

Rebecca's eyes flew wide… her mouth would have fallen open and she would have gasped had she not caught herself. Bridgette's wound… the deep gash on her hand… it hadn't healed at all!

It hadn't healed at all! Not even a little… not even the edges… since the night they made that cut by accident.

It was still the same… almost exactly the same… except it no longer bled.

Rebecca smiled and forced a dull laugh. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to—" 

"It's perfectly alright." Bridgette smiled, too. She placed a square of dressing on her wound, and then rapped it with bandages. Rebecca didn't help… she didn't need to; Bridgette could do it her self.

Not to mention the fact that Rebecca was stunned…

Bridgette gave Rebecca a smile as she proceeded in leaving the bathroom. "See you in bed…" she joked, her breath smelling of spearmint toothpaste. Typical sarcastic Bridgette…

Rebecca smiled and stepped into the bath room, shutting the door behind her; she stood by the door just a minute… her hands still on the knob.

_What the hell just happened?_, she thought… but pushed it away and out of her mind. She walked up to the sink and gazed in the mirror.

Not bad… not bad at all. Though she was developing the dimmest of dark lines under her eyes…

"Need… sleep…" she joked with herself, smiling at her own stupidity.

She grasped her tooth brush and placed tooth paste on it, bringing it to her teeth she began to brush… as she did, her eyes wondered and she spotted the trash bin where Bridgette had thrown out her old bandages…

But something… something about them… it bothered her. She spit out the tooth paste and quickly finished up before grasping the bandages out of the garbage can.

She ran them through her hands… carefully examining.

She examined one end… no rips, no tares, not even a cat scratch or a little cut or a needle poke… nothing. That end was clean.

She ran it through her hands all the way to the other end… nothing. Until she reached the other end…

A tear… a piece ripped out. Like a shred.

She examined the shape of the piece, the shred, and everything to do with it…

Her heart stopped… she felt cold all over and began to shake and whine softly.

The pieces were exactly the same… they matched up perfectly. A perfect match… that's what it was.

A perfect match.

A perfect match between the tare in Bridgette's bandages and the shred of bandaged left at the crime scene.

A perfect match.

.

Rebecca was being far too dismissive…

Perhaps she needed that wake up call…

No, not the one you just saw. She dismissed that, too… she couldn't handle it, I suppose.

But, it was Mathew who gave her the real wakeup call. It was Mathew who opened her eyes to the truth… who helped her.

Let's tell you about that now, what do you say?


	5. Alliances and Visions

The next morning met the sleepy Nebraska town.

Rebecca and Bridgette awoke in silence… Rebecca dressed in the room, while Bridgette dressed in the upstairs bathroom, in a black and white checkered muscle tank with a car on it and yellow letters with red outlines that spelled out some sort of derby— with faded denim shorts that were almost white in places.

She dressed her hair up by braiding it all and then putting it in a braided bun fastened tightly to the back of her head.

Not fancy but Rebecca looked good, anyway.

Bridgette stepped out in her typical outfit…

Rebecca found, much to her disliking, that she couldn't speak to Bridgette anymore… her throat just would not allow it. So they went the whole day in silence… which didn't seem to bother Bridgette at all.

It wasn't until around 4:30 that the girls got done with all their choirs that day… when they were free, Rebecca left that house right away. She needed to get out… take a walk… clear her head, anything.

But she'd have no time for that.

She was walking behind a barn… somewhere, who knew where? Somewhere in town… when he came out of no where.

She was gazing out at the corn, leaning against the barn, admiring the way it swayed and swished in the forever existent Nebraska breeze, when he appeared in front of her and grasped her shoulders.

"Rebecca!" He said… he was out of breath. "Thank God I found you…"

"What are you doing?" she cried, trying to worm out of his grasp. She couldn't…

"Rebecca, we have to talk. We have to talk now."

"Mathew… what? What's wrong with you?" Rebecca continued to squirm… he was hurting her… her shoulders.

"Rebecca, please, listen to me! It's about Bridgette!"

Rebecca's squirming eased dramatically. "What about Bridgette?"

"I have to talk to you about her..." Mathew paused. "… and her little group."

"What about them?" Rebecca grew in interest… he voice was a mix of pleading and demanding.

"Listen… I think… I think her gr--- _the_ group… I think they're killing people."

Rebecca shuddered all over. The idea… hearing it in words… in sent an electric shock through her.

"Killing people?" Her voice was shrill… and it shook. The pain in her shoulders felt unbearable.

"Yes!" He shook her softly. "Rebecca… you _have_ to believe me! You and I… we're the only ones left!"

"Mathew… please… slow down!" she began to squirm again… the pain… the pain, it was just too much. Too much!

"Please, Rebecca… please listen to me. You have to help me. You have to!"

"I will!" she cried. "I will! I will! I will! Just let go of me!"

And, much to her surprise, he did.

"Now… calm down." Rebecca said… taking a deep breath. "Slow down… tell me, slowly, what the hell is going on here? What are you talking about?"

"Bridgette… Bridgette and her friends." Rebecca nodded… Mathew nodded. "They're killing people… I mean, I think they're killing people."

"Explain."

"That little boy… Tobin! Tobin was his name… you know, his Grandfather died?"

"Yeah." Rebecca's voice became a little bitter. "We've met…"

"They said his Grandfather died of a heart attack…" Mathew's eyes seemed to ice over. "That's not true… at least, I don't think it is. Tobin killed his Grandfather… I know he did, I just know he did. And I know it sounds crazy… a little kid like him doin' somethin' like that… but if I'm right and not just crazy and if it's true…"

His voice trailed off.

"Continue!" Rebecca didn't mean to sound so eager…

"Right…" Mathew nodded, shorting things out in his mind again. "I wouldn't care if it weren't for the fact that they got Abigail… my little sister."

"The red haired girl?"

"Yeah…" Mathew looked around… nervously. "But anyway… back to the point. There's old Judy Monroe… the old lady who was killed just Yesterday… I'd bet'cha one of them did her in… Infact…"

Mathew looked away as he said this… he couldn't look at Rebecca's face.

"I think I know who killed her…"

"Who?!" Rebecca shrieked… she didn't mean to, it just happened.

"Bridgette…" he whispered. Rebecca's heart skipped a beat and not in a good way. "I heard… I heard that old Judy there was talking to her sisters… saying something about how Bridgette was involved with someone she called "He" and that Bridgette was going to take all the children of this town down with her or somethin'…"

"_Whoa!_" Rebecca couldn't contain her shock. "Someone she called "He"?" Mathew nodded. "I snuck in on one of their meetings a while ago… they were talking about someone they called "He"… He…"

"Then…" Mathew looked at her again. "Then Judy Monroe was right…"

"If only we knew what Judy was talking about…" Rebecca thought out loud.

"But Judy was right! And I think I'm right, too… Bridgette killed Judy Monroe! Bridgette killed Judy Monroe because Judy was on to her… Judy knew what was going on here!"

"My God…" Rebecca looked away. "My God… Bridgette really did kill her. My God…"

"You knew?" Mathew cried… shocked. Wasn't that just the thing that day?

"Yeah…" it was Rebecca's turn to look away. "Yeah… I knew… yeah… I found a piece of bandage at Judy's house… after the murder… on the window sill where the killer had broken in from… I compared it with the old bandages from Bridgette's hand (she cut herself a few days ago) they were the same… exactly the same."

"You knew…" Mathew looked away. There was silence between the two for a long moment… "Listen," he looked back at her, looking her straight in the eyes. "You and me… we're in the same place here. With Abigail and Bridgette… we both gotta help 'em, means we both gotta work together."

Rebecca nodded.

"We gotta work together… you get it. We gotta figure out what's going one here and stop them before they kill too many more innocent people."

Rebecca nodded again. She couldn't speak… she felt like crying. There were tears in her eyes.

But she shook his hand, anyway.

_Together..._, the word echoed in her mind. _Together… together… together…_

It repeated until its meaning began to blur.

_Well at least I know I'm not alone._

.

Mr. and Mrs. Tilton smiled at each other.

Abigail held one of each of their hands in hers. "Come with me, come with me" she paraded happily. Bringing her parents along. "There's something you have to see! You have to see it, you just have to!"

"What's so special that we must see right away?" asked Mrs. Tilton as Abigail pulled her parents along through the back door.

Abigail, Mathew, and their parents lived just a block away from Rebecca's Grand Aunt.

The corn was in their back yard, too.

"I can't tell…" Abigail giggled. "It's a surprise!"

"Oh! My." Mrs. Tilton went along.

"Hear that dear, it's a surprise." Mr. Tilton grinned. "I just love surprises."

Abigail led them outside, through the back yard… pulling their hands in her little ones. Out into the corn.

"Oh my, oh my," Mrs. Tilton said again. "Is the surprise in the corn field, Hunny?"

"Yes." Abigail grinned her fool head off. "Watch your step." She warned. "The corn is tricky."

Both parents and Abigail laughed.

"Right this way." Abigail instructed, pulling them along. "Right this way…" she took a right. "Right this way… into the clearing."

"A clearing?" Mr. Tilton asked, looking at his wife.

They were both clueless.

Abigail nodded cheerfully. "Yep… It's a clearing, right over there, with a surprise for you waiting in it."

The parents laughed again… humoring their young daughter.

They came to the clearing stepping through the corn. Both parents looked around; it was a mostly normal clearing save for the small fire in the center.

Abigail led her parents partially in before turning to face them. She continued to grin like that, her giddy stupid grin.

"What's going on here, Abigail?" Mr. Tilton asked. No body ever called Abigail "Abby" or any other form of a nickname like that.

"Your surprise." Abigail said bluntly.

They almost had a chance to look around… maybe, even, to get away… almost, before the two kids, the girl with the wide blue eyes and another little boy, hiding behind them in the corn pounced on Mr. Tilton.

The kids were armed with screw drivers… they jumped out of the corn and trust the long nails right into the back of Mr. Tilton's knees.

He cried out deep in pain and fell to his knees on the ground, Mrs. Tilton cried out in horror. Two of the older boys grabbed Mrs. Tilton's arms and pulled her back away from Mr. Tilton… they held her to watch his fate.

The two children with the screw drivers pulled the nails back out of Mr. Tilton's knees. He cried out once more in pain… the first drops of his blood split upon the ground and flowed into the earth.

Another one of the older boys appeared, and stood over Mr. Tilton from behind and brought a wire down around Mr. Tilton's neck and held it tight… strangling Mr. Tilton as well as causing some rusty scratches, maybe even cuts, on him neck.

Mr. Tilton twitched and wiggled but it was no use… the child held the wire to his throat until he lost all signs of life, until he was dead.

One down.

Now it was Mrs. Tilton's turn… the two boys held her tightly by the arms… she was crying and sobbing and making just a mess of noises… an awful sight.

David, who was now Bridgette's right-hand-man, brought a plastic bag down over her head.

"No! No!" she shrieked over and over as he brought it down, and then proceeded in tying it on with a stretchy string… so it would hold the bag air tight, but not strangle her itself. "No! Dear God! No! You bitch!"

She shrieked now at Bridgette, who stood in front of her. Bridgette stood in front of her, staring her straight in the eyes… smiling pleasantly.

"You little bitch!" Mrs. Tilton shrieked and shrieked… as if that would do any good.

And all the while, Bridgette just store her in the eye… smiling… smiling pleasantly, her arms behind her back pleasantly, with pleasant posture… smiling pleasantly.

"No! God, no! You children… you… you're evil! Oh God, no!"

It was far too late for Mrs. Tilton… she suffocated with the plastic bag over her head and was out in no time. Her last sight; the smiling Bridgette.

Abigail giggled once both her parents were dead. The two older boys who held Mrs. Tilton began to carry the bodies away.

"That was fun, Bridgi!" Abigail said giddily, standing next to the pleasantly smiling Bridgette. "I like bringing them out here like that… I hope to do it again sometime."

"Aww, you were very good at it." Bridgette said, turning her gaze and smiling at Abigail. "We are very proud of you, Abigail… You will, my child, you will…"

Abigail giggled again. Her face a ball of light.

"I will."

.

The sun light, though bright as it was, didn't do much help at lighting up such black hair… it only made it shine blue/black in places.

It was the next day, next afternoon… 2:25.

Bridgette stood out… in her normal place, in their clearing, in the corn field. The others were all gathered now.

Oh! How different it was to be having a meeting during the day… they could be spotted… it wasn't likely, but it was possible.

But Bridgette knew she must.

He Who Walks Behind the Rows would protect them… and if He didn't, they had no problem with the idea of doing the peeping tom in.

"Are you ready to begin, Bridgi?" David asked her, standing to her right. Her right-hand-man.

Although, right hand wasn't always the best of things… her right hand, right then, had a great gash a crossed it clad in bandages.

"Yes." She said bluntly. Her voice rose as she began, powerful once again. "My children, the children of He… I understand all wonders at why I would call you out here on this such a time… We shall get into that, do not threat. But first, I must compliment you on the progress we have been making in our mission… He Who Walks Behind the Rows is quite pleased with us."

The children smiled with no words.

"But, now is not the time to discuss that…" Bridgette started up again. "I have a message… a vision sent to me by He."

"Oh! What is it?" a girl of about fourteen moaned.

"Don't keep us in suspense, Bridgi." Someone else said rather quietly.

Bridgette raised her hand to silence the masses.

"It was not long ago… still this day, perhaps only an hour has passed… maybe more, maybe less… He Who Walks Behind the Rows came to me--- sending me a vision. I saw a girl, a girl I know well… she seemed the same, except there was a dandy lions crown atop her head… she danced. She danced here, in the corn field, spinning round and round. And I wondered… what was the relevance of this was? But then she stopped, and looked up, as if staring at me… and then, all too suddenly, she fell back… but instead of falling against, she fell _in_ to the corn… and became one with it. And all at once… I knew what it meant… and what it still means now!"

Bridgette's face was serious as she spoke to them… and they store back only with the utmost interest.

Silence.

"What does it mean, Bridgi?" David whispered softly… not whispered, but to quiet to be a normal speaking tone. They heard him…

"_What does it mean_!" Bridgette swooned, as if it wasn't a question at all. "What does it mean… what does it mean…" she stopped. Silent again, her eyes traced over the entire crowd. She stood strong and tall above them. "It means… The girl, this girl I know all too well, this girl who wore the crown of dandy lions, this girl who danced in the corn field… He wants her. He wants her as his own! This girl, she will be the first to be scarified upon our rein! No… not scarified at all… but _given_!" A pause. "Given to He Who Walks Behind the Rows!"

Cheers rose all around… surrounding Bridgette… the children's cheers.

Bridgette looked to those at her sides…

Her most wicked of smirks as of expressions burned on her face.


	6. Maybe Ending

"Mom… Dad…" Mathew called, stepping out of his room.

His voice echoed through the big empty house, he looked up and down the hall... no sign of them there.

Where had they been? He hadn't seen them since dinner the night before…

"Mom… Dad…" he walked up and down the hall, peering through every door, into every room, calling their names. "Mom… Dad…"

He soon found they weren't up stairs.

"Mom… Dad… where are you guys?" Mathew called out, dashing to and down the stairs. "Mom… Dad… Mom… Dad…"

He called out once again the moment his feet touched the downstairs floor. He was in the living room… he chose to check to his right first, dashing down that way. Calling out "Mom… Dad… Mom… Dad… Where are you? Where are you guys?"

He checked through all the rooms over there, on the right side of the house. No one… no sign.

"Mom… Dad…"

He dashed back into the living room, and looked at the door… which was just a crossed from the staircase.

"Mom… Dad…" Mathew jogged to it, and looked out their front door… their car was there… but his parents weren't.

"Mom… Dad… where are you? Where are you, I'm serious!" he jogged back over to the stairway… then looked to the kitchen, which was to the left of the stair way.

He heard the sliding door in there open… and then close.

"Mom! Dad!" he cried, dashing in there.

Wrong…

Not his parents… not his Mother and Father… but Abigail Tilton, his little sister.

"Abigail… Abigail, what are doing?"

She looked at him, startled.

"What am I doing…?" she asked gently. He nodded. "I was out… and now I am in."

She smiled, as if she had done something great.

"OK… let's try that another way… what were you doing _outside_?"

"Oh! Lots of things…" Abigail said, widening her pretty blue eyes. "I walked… and I breathed… and I looked… and I blinked… but, generally, I was outside."

Mathew sighed… and took a sidewards glance at the clock to his right.

2:59. One minute to three.

"Abigail…" he said strangely, lowering his eyebrows some. "Do you… know… where Mom and Dad are?"

After a long moment of silence, Mathew looked back at his sister. She was just staring at him… that stare, the same as Bridgette's stare… and Tobin's stare… that stare they all shared. It made Mathew shudder.

He cringed. "Abigail… do you… do you know where they are? Do you know when they'll be coming back?"

Now, Abigail added a grin to the stare.

"Oh, Mathew!" Abigail laughed.

"What?" Mathew demanded.

"Our parents aren't coming back."

.

What time was it?

Peter Christianson looked at the clock beside his bed… 8:54 p.m.

But what had woken him?

So many questions... he had to remember. He had to remember, and so he thought… thought to remember.

Mr. Christianson wasn't very old… 37. He had been raised on a farm his whole life and was now a farmer… and boy did he look the part. With thinning dirt brown hair and dirt brown eyes, stubble all over his chin and around his mouth, dirty clothes..: an oversized grey T-Shirt and faded denim overalls.

Your typical farmer, no?

Oh, yes… that's straying from the point… but what had woken him up?

He tried and tried… and then remembered.

It was the girl… the little red haired girl. She was crying… the little red haired girl who was crying.

He looked out his window… there she was, standing at the edge of the corn.

He rose from bed, scratching his scrawny belly; he'd been malnourished since he was little… so it wasn't a very new thing.

He walked through his house, to his front door… which just-so-happened to be on the side of the farm house, the house next to the barn.

He stepped out, into the early night, and walked around the side to the back… where the corn field stretched out.

The girl stood there, still. A shadow, a silhouette among the stocks. He could hear her sobbing… crying… she whipped at her eyes with both hands.

"Hey, Girl, what's a matter you?" He said aloud, trying to sound gentle.

The sobbing stopped and the girl looked up, her deep blue eyes shined glassy with tears and bright reflecting the light of the moon… like a cat.

"Hey, Girl, what's a matter you?" he repeated, walking up to her. But when she was within about six feet of her… she turned, and began into the corn. "Hey… wait! Wait, girl!"

He began to chase after her, following her into the field. She began to run… and he chased her.

"Hey… Girl… wait, wait…" he called, but she didn't listen.

She led him through the corn, the rows so tall they were even above _his_ head, but… even to spite all the odds… he didn't find it heard to see and follow the girl.

"Hey! Come on… wait, please, Girl!" he called, still running after her.

She glanced back once to see how close on her tail he was. Her red haired bounced and a good enough amount of moon light hit her just then for her to be clear in the night… clear to his vision.

She changed her direction, bringing him along her path through the corn… kind of like how Tobin had done to Rebecca.

But Mr. Christenson didn't know about that, now did he?

So she led him--- the shadow of a little girl--- through the corn field. And the tired old farmer, himself, knew of the clearing just up a head…

He began to loose speed on her as they neared the clearing, and she went through far before he did.

Once he was free of the corn, he saw her waiting a crossed the clearing… standing there at the far end from him. He stopped to catch his breath.

"Hey… girl…" she sobbed again, whipping at the tears on her cheeks. "What's a matter you?"

She didn't answer him, but turned as if about to run again.

Thinking she was going to run again, Mr. Christianson began in a sprint… but after her ran just a few footsteps and before he knew it a boy's voice cried out "Now!"

The two children, hiding in the corn, pulled the wire tight… the trip wire did its job, tripping Mr. Christenson so he fell face first against the ground.

Two kids pounced on him immediately, sitting on their knees on his arms. Mr. Christenson cried out in pain as they squished his arms like that…

Abigail turned around, giggling.

She had lured another one in.

David stepped out from the corn, too, smiling proudly at Abigail. He was armed with a shovel… it seemed about new.

"You kids… you kids… leave me alone." Mr. Christenson mumbled… he couldn't move very well with the children sitting on his back like that.

"Well hello there…" David said in a smooth voice.

"What… what are you doing?" Mr. Christenson sounded like an old man… begging for his sorry life. David couldn't help but grin so, as he stepped over Mr. Christenson… standing tall over him. "You kids… you kids leave me alone now."  
David raised the shovel high, glancing up at Abigail, licking his lips.

Abigail gave a closed eyed smile, and nodded her head up and down vigorously.

"What is going on? This isn't funny at all… you kids, you kids…" he didn't have much time to say anything more the that… with only a soft groan of effort, David brought the shovel down hard into the back off Mr. Christenson's neck… popping his head clean off.

His blood flowed into the ground immediately after impact… and so much more when the head was completely off.

The two kids got up off the headless body's back and took a few steps back… two of the older boys began to move the body, dragging it by it's feet.

David picked up the head by a hand full of its hair and looked it straight in the eyes… the eye lids still twitched and flickered some and the lips still moved barely and the cheek twitched once.

"Now what was that you were saying?"

.

At these same moments, deep in the towns, was the reason Bridgette was not present for this such a murder.

She walked through the dark streets, looking innocent and shy. A silent silhouette, a shadow in the dark.

The small police station loomed, brightly lit, up a head. It was a one story building, painted brick, small, few windows, front double doors, nothing special.

Bridgette walked right up to the glass doors, peering in on the police officer at the front desk. He was writing something on a page of paper with black printed words all over it, even on the back.

Bridgette put all her weight against the door, pushing it open slowly… it was a true pain to get opened… specially for just a girl, like Bridgette.

But, with a good amount of effort, she got it and claimed her prize of entering the little building.

Her face was pale, as if she had just witnessed something awful… (Don't tell anyone, but that's about the normal color of her skin)… her wide eyes backing up the story. Her red-ish pumpkin lips seemed to pout lightly.

It was a perfect look of frail innocence.

Officer Leon's long face looked up from the papers, stirred by the _click, click, click _of Bridgette's black ankle boots that tied up the front.

"Miss Bridgi…" Officer Leon's face filled with a strange looked Bridgette had never seen before… it was like an adult actual ever cared for another person… it was like someone actually cared about her… something she could never recall happening. "You look unwell."

Bridgette nodded ever so gently, and looked back up at him with the carefully animated green eyes.

"Well… what's the matter?" Bridgette didn't answer… and as her silence held heavy he seemed to think. Bridgette slipped one of the two knives hidden in her long sleeves out, gripping the cool handle tightly, but keeping it hidden at her side. "… Can I help you?"

"No." Bridgette smirked. "But I can help_ you._"

A puzzled look fell upon Officer Leon's face, but he wouldn't even have time to change it before Bridgette took action. Her free hand grasp the desk and she reared up on her tip toes, bringing the knife out, her arm making the sharp and swift movements, she stabbed it through Office Leon's temple straight into his brains.

The last thing his brain was able to produce was a cry of pain and a strange, mixed up looked on his face…

Bridgette pulled the knife back out, and fell back to her normal stance. She admired the blood on her knife, a favorite weapon, and grinned wickedly.

"What was that?"

"Captain Leon? Captain Leon?"

"Are you alright?"

Calls from the other four cops this town possessed… and foot steps began thudding down the hall.

Bridgette smiled her full grin, and let the other knife fall into her hand… holding them both tall.

_Are five people enough to count as a "massacre"?_, she wondered. _I don't know._

_ Let's find out._

.

The bodies of the police officers would be the quickest to be found of all.

It only took an hour and twelve minutes.

An hour and twelve minutes before Betty Leon, officer Leon's extremely blonde wife, would find them all there… like that.

And by 9:10, the same black van that had carried away the all previous bodies and the coroner would be there to take all five away.

All five police officers all stabbed in some way, shape or form.

But there were some bodies that would never be discovered… like the old farmer Mr. Christenson and Mr. and Mrs. Tilton.

Rebecca would find out about the murders, somewhere around 8:30, the next morning… and, of course, she knew very well who committed them.

But she couldn't rat Bridgette and her gang out… she knew someone was controlling them, Bridgette never could have choreographed all this… as especially not by herself.

Plus, no one would ever believe her.

No one would ever believe a gang of children lead by weird little Bridgi would even be _capable_ of committing such heartless crimes.

So silence was all.

All for now, at least...

Such horrible things Bridgette had done… such awful things… so many deaths… So many deaths, that there was to be a ceremony for the recently deceased at the town church the night after next.

Rebecca felt guilty.

Wouldn't you?

.

Silence.

Wasn't that just the thing? The things for that era in time…

Silence.

Yes… yes it was.

Rebecca went about her day that day, as it was. A normal day with a normal morning and a normal after noon and a normal evening and a normal night.

Normal, save for the fact that Rebecca couldn't speak to Bridgette. It hurt her to even _look_ at Bridgette… she would look at the creamy pale face with the dull green eyes framed by the pitch black hair… and think… just think… 

_Bridgette, how could you do this? Who are you now, Bridgette? What happened to my cousin, the Bridgette I used to know? Are you still her? You are, aren't you? How could you do this, Bridgette? How could you do this to _people_? Living, breathing, creatures!_

And the most commonly asked question… the question everyone asks.

_Why?_

_ Why, Bridgette, why?_

But no questions would be said, no words among the wind, no exchange from cousin to cousin… the cousins that used to be as close as twin sisters.

That was no more.

It broke Rebecca's heart.

Shattered it into a million pieces and swept it under the rug where no one would see it… that was how Rebecca felt.

But the day was quiet… Bridgette stayed home, didn't run off to hold a meeting with her little cultist group or run off to kill anyone in cold blood.

No one died, that day.

Not even at night, when Rebecca stayed awake, lying in bed… watching her cousin sleep silently, breathing slowly, in her bed a crossed from Rebecca.

Rebecca stayed up all night, watching her… watching Bridgette.

But she never left.

No one died, that day.

It was enough to make Rebecca wonder if they were done… that's what she wondered, around 4:40 in the morning… If Bridgette and her gang were done.

Perhaps… maybe.

It was possible… wasn't it?


	7. That Slow Spreading Smile

A wrist watch read 6:13.

David's wrist watch. He glanced at it quickly as he stood with Bridgette…

It was that next day, evening, before the ceremony at the church… the two were now in Mr. Christenson's barn… even though he was dead, they still snuck in… silent and swift, thus is the way of a soldier of He.

Now, inside the barn, David gave Bridgette a boost onto a short wooden wall about an inch thick… even though it was only about a board taller then him.

"Are they there?" he asked her. A circle of light from a hole in the ceiling above lit up Bridgette and, for the first time since that night she had come to this sleepy Nebraska farming community, she lit up under its golden radiance.

"Yeah..." she breathed, grinning wide. "Of course they're here… it is just as He Who Walks Behind the Rows said." Her grin dropped. "Did you doubt?"

"No." David replied quickly and bluntly.

Bridgette grinned again, and turned to look at the other side of the small wall… filing through its containments, then she looked back at him, and this time he grinned, too. She pulled up a pair, two, sickles and tosses them down to him.

He caught them, and replied back darkly. "Thanks."

Bridgette turned and filed through again, then brought a scythe, nearly as tall as she and sturdy she grinned wide and twirled it in her hands so the blade would catch the bright sun light.

She had found her dream weapon.

She looked back down at David, sitting on the thin wall, and smirked darkly, and darkness seemed to possess her far over the light.

David returned the smirk with a dark grin.

.

Mornings light that day didn't wake Rebecca.

She was already a wake…

The cousins got up, again in silence… and dress, again in silence… and met down stairs, again in silence… and went about their daily choirs, again in silence.

They went about their day, just like that.

But that's history… we're at, like, 6 O'clock now… aren't we?

Oh, yes. Bridgette strayed and left Rebecca at a few minutes before 6:00… with only so much as a mutter for explanation.

_Who are you going to kill, Bridgette?_, Rebecca wondered. And shivered at her own thought. What a horrible thing it was to think! But it was true… wasn't it?

_Who are you going to kill, Bridgette?_

Rebecca shook it away and pushed it straight out of her mind… they were done. Bridgette's group, the murders, everything… they were done.

At least, Rebecca thought they were done. She believed they were done.

Actually, Rebecca didn't believe one or the other… she just didn't want to think about it, and dismissed it as "they were done".

Rebecca had dressed, that day, in a dull, dark pink half-sleeved top… with off black short shorts that had all the characteristics of jeans (zipper, the one button, side pockets, back pockets, ect.) but weren't denim… they were merely cloth. 

Her hair, braids, one on each side of her head pulled to the back and tied together, then let everything that's not in the front tied part (and all the rest) fall straight again.

Simple, but she looked really good…. she always looked best under simple, though.

Usually, the thought along with the nice day and such would have cheered her up… but not this day.

She doubted anything would be able to cheer up, that day.

Though now, at six, after she had dismissed it once again… she proceeded in her work, while Bridgette ran off to Mr. Christenson's barn, hanging laundry…

It was the last load, the colored things. Good God her Grand Aunt posses a lot of blankets, and quilts, and table clothes, and bed sheets, and big old useless things like that that made laundry take forever.

But Rebecca didn't mind… infact, she rather liked the choir.

She was almost to the end when Bridgette returned at, roughly, 6:30…

She had appeared out of no where, as followers of her group seemed to do, standing around ten to thirteen feet away from Rebecca… watching her.

Rebecca jumped… but dare not tell Bridgette she'd scared her.

"You know about us, don't you?" Bridgette said softly, her voice emotionless.

Rebecca gasped.

_You know about _us_, don't you, Becky?_

Rebecca heard it over again in her head… but it was different in there. Her name was added and the word "us" was stressed.

Lately, the voice in her head sounded a lot like Bridgette's.

"Rebecca?" Bridgette stole her from her thoughts. "You haven't answered me… I said, you know about us, don't you?"

"N-no, I…" Rebecca's voice shook.

"Don't lie to me!" Bridgette interrupted her. "You know about us… about our work… you were there, at our meeting, He saw you."

Rebecca began to shake… Bridgette knew about her… Bridgette _knew_! What would she do to her now?

"And then that "thing" with Tobin… He wanted Tobin to lead you out there, to our clearing… it wasn't Tobin who brought you there, it was He… He possessed Tobin."

"Who is _He_?" Rebecca cried softly. She had to know.

"He Who Walks Behind the Rows."

"What?!" Rebecca demanded. It didn't make any sense to her…

"He Who Walks Behind the Rows…" Bridgette repeated. "The one true father, the one true God, He Who Walks Behind the Rows."

Bridgette's voice grew in power as she explained.

"Alright, alright!" Rebecca moaned. "Stop it… I get it, I get the picture."

Bridgette nodded. "You know about us… I know you do… but there's nothing wrong with that." Bridgette smiled and extended her hand. "Join us."

The words shattered through Rebecca's mind.

_Join us…_

"And be a killer? A murderer?"

"We are not killers… we are _saviors_! We are only doing the work of the lord… we kill those who poison the land, who poison everything! Who corrupt his beautiful children, who destroy innocents! They brought it upon themselves with their tainted culture and false God, there is no way to save them, they must be destroyed!"

"Stop!" Rebecca cried. "Stop it! Stop it, Bridgette! This isn't you! It's not you! He possessed _you_! Don't you see? It's him… not you, Bridgette!"

Bridgette store forward plainly, a smirk graced her pumpkin colored lips. "Wrong, Rebecca."

_Wrong, Rebecca._

Rebecca looked hard at her cousin's face, at her cousin's eyes… and knew… and knew she was telling the truth. This evil… the evil was Bridgette. She was under no ones control, but a willing servant of He Who Walks Behind the Rows."

"No…" Rebecca whispered. "No… no… no…" she took a step back… and then another. And spoke again, her voice a normal speaking tone again. "Bridgette… when? When did you get so _fucked_?!"

Her voice rose for the last word… she didn't mean for it to. That wouldn't be like Rebecca; to just scream obscenities.

"There's nothing wrong with me. I've never been so good!" Bridgette sang. "He wants you, Becky. He Who Walks Behind the Rows wants you… He wants you, like I, as his harvest mistress… He wants you, to be as one with him and us… He wants you to be given, don't you see? Don't you see what this is? This is an honor, Rebecca! An honor. Can't you understand that?"

"No!" Rebecca tried to look and sound powerful, even though she was shaking so heard, and her voice shook, and her noise became stuffy, and hot tears burned her eyes. "No. He can't have me!"

And with that, Rebecca broke into a sprint, jerking around. But she'd have to time to get far; Bridgette would grasp her before she made it even ten foot steps.

"Don't pretend you don't want to…" Bridgette whispered to the back of Rebecca's ear, her arms raped tight around Rebecca's body, holding Rebecca's arms tightly to her sides. Rebecca tried to push free… she had always been stronger then Bridgette. Bridgette was one to talk and act, but when it came down to it she had never really been a strong girl… now she felt Rebecca so, she couldn't fight her way free.

"Why are you doing this?" Rebecca sobbed. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm trying to _save_ you, Becky. It's because I love you… my dear cousin, you mine as well be my sister. Isn't that the way it's always been? Becky, I'm trying to save you."

"Why you? Why us?"

"You don't think I'm the first, do you?" Bridgette laughed deep in her throat, but didn't let it pass to her lips… it'd be to loud and hurt Rebecca's ear very much. "It began a long time ago… with a boy named Isaac Chroner. _He_ was the first… and what a great first he was… and there were more, too. He Who Walks Behind the Rows showed me all about them… and it all began here, in this same town. Right here in Gatlin… Gatlin, Nebraska."

Rebecca struggled again; her cheeks were damp with tears down. A new set ran down them… "But why us?"

"I don't know…" Bridgette whispered. "He chose us, for reasons I know not why. Never question He, for his judgment is always just."

Rebecca stopped struggling, gathering her strength. "That night… when I thought I saw you flickering… what _really _happened?"

"Hmm… That was the night when we first connected, He Who Walks Behind the Rows and eyes." Bridgette grinned dreamily. "I wasn't flickering… no, that must have been the distance." The pictures flashed in Bridgette's mind, her memories. The lines that resembled lightning passing around her. "He was connecting our link… a link that cannot be broken until death."

"So you're saying this is all destiny?" Rebecca asked, still not struggling, still gathering her strength.

"Yes." Bridgette gave her a plain answer for once… and she thought it was going to stay that way, until Bridgette's lips parted again. "Yes, Becky. Everything is destiny, there is no such thing as chance or coincidence… everything is destined.

"Now enough with these questions, Becky, stop avoiding the inevitable…"

There was silence between them for another minute; Rebecca struggled weakly so Bridgette wouldn't be on to her.

"Don't fight it, Becky… You and I, we're the same inside. Join me…"

"I'd rather die then be what you are…" Rebecca said, then she focused all of her strength and pushed… pushed against Bridgette… pushing free of Bridgette… and she did… she broke free.

Rebecca stumbled at first, but quickly caught herself and ran… ran as fast as her legs could move her.

Bridgette sighed. "As you wish…" A paused, then she smirked to herself…

"I have a massacre to get too."

.

Church bells rang five minutes to 7:30.

Twilight.

It was twilight outside. By 7:30, everyone was there, everyone in town… except the children. They had thought it optional for the children to show up… and not a single one had… how strange.

Infact, Grand Aunt Tammy was the only _adult_ who was not there.

The old preacher, Father Gregory, walked up a side hall to the alter, and then to where it was his place to stand.

He set a heavy leather bound book down, his bible, and opened it up. He began the ceremony with no form of a greeting or anything such. His old voice still boomed load among the church's fine walls.

It was a big wooden church, of gothic architectures, painted paper white… it was pretty old, and had grown slightly rickety over time, the paint chipped and the windows weren't 100% clean…

It was the only church in town… a town church. The town church in the farming community that was, now… once again, anything but sleepy.

The town church for the damned town of Gatlin.

The ceremony seemed peaceful enough… everyone gathered in silent morning… except Betty Leon, who chose to be in very loud… sobbing… nose-blowing… annoying morning.

Everything seemed peaceful… until, estimativly, 7:45… when the children arrived.

The doors burst open and slammed against the inside walls, Bridgette strode in standing strong at the head of the group, her arms still slightly outstretched from pushing them opened wide, her scythe held delicately in one hand.

At first, the adults didn't notice the weapons (sickles, knives, pitch forks, all types of sharp objects) their children were equipped with… some parents even began to scold their children for bursting in like that.

But soon, they all saw them.

It began with just one, Betty Leon's, gasp… then they seemed to spread like wild fire throughout all the adults.

Bridgette smiled, holding her scythe so the blade was posed right a crossed her face. She was the only one with a scythe.

Bridgette was the first to strike, with super swift arm movements she brought her scythe around fast and swung it straight to chop the head clean off the man sitting in the back closest to the isle, on the left side.

Betty Leon was the first to scream… as she was the first to do anything panicky, annoying, or just plain blonde… then others began to scream, three or four men got up from their seats and tried to run for the door.

They all got cut up by one or another of the children.

Two of the older boys moved on the doors, slamming them shut and leaning against them, three boys joined them as guard.

The rest of the kids moved out with their weapons in hand… their slaughter, their massacre, had begun.

The children killed their parents… children killed other children's parents… the children killed the old people, too… all adults. They all had to die…

Bridgette went for the priest, the biggest sinner; perhaps… he spread all the lies out daily for the wicked adults to see, spreading the false God.

He was hers.

She sliced and he swerved, hitting the bible.

"You defileth your own book?" Bridgette laughed and swiped again. One of his arms toppled to the floor.

Father Gregory cried out, terror and pain gripping his old heart… he dropped the bible, just like his amputated arm, and tried to run.

Bridgette swung again, snapping his legs off from just below the knee.

He cried again… and tears _actually_ came to the old eyes… and he whimpered like a frightened child on the floor.

Bridgette laughed. She stood and admired the pitiful priest for a good long moment… taking in the glory of it all… before ending his life with a quick swipe diagonally a crossed the back of his head.

She turned then, swift and sudden, pulling her scythe free from his skull and watched the others. They had around three quarter of the crowd already… most finished off quickly by stabs to the stomach, slit throats, complete decapitation. Only a few actual required to be toyed with.

And Betty Leon was one of them. Good Christ did she deserve it!... Oh wait, that's personal opinion again…

Bridgette turned to Betty, who was cowering in a corner.

"I killed him, you know." She whispered, nearing the poor young woman… Betty was only twenty four… not old at all. "Office Leon… stabbed him straight through the temple, you know that. He was so shocked! You should have seen the look on his face…"

"Stop it!" Betty cried, pressing her hands tight to her ears and shutting her eyes tight… as if she could shut out Bridgette. "Just leave me alone! Leave me alone you crazy kid… You're a child! You're just a child!"

"Why should I stop?" Bridgette barked, demanding. "Why? You didn't _love_ him… You were bored. You married him… because you were bored."

"Stop! Stop!" Betty shrieked.

"Alright…" Bridgette smirked. "We can stop this."

Those were the last words Betty would ever hear, Bridgette swiped her scythe through the air, the sharp blade went straight through Betty's left hand--- she shrieked in pain--- straight a crossed Betty's throat, slitting it right on open, then straight on through her right hand.

And that was the end of Betty Leon, thank God!

Bridgette turned and watched the massacre commence… watched David slash an X right a crossed his Father's torso, then turn to his Mother and swipe one sickle through a crossed her throat... watched her body tumble to the floor.

Bridgette watched the massacre… as the children killed all the adults.

Bridgette watched her massacre until everyone was dead.

Then all the children turn and looked upon her.

And the smile spread slowly on her pale face.


	8. Batteries Not Included

Where was she running?

Where was Rebecca running?

She didn't know that… but she sure as hell knew she was running there and _fast_. But it wasn't _where _she was running, was it? It was what she was running from.

Rebecca was running from Bridgette.

Running, running as the evening sun dipped… running and running as fast as her feet could take her… running for her life, even?

She couldn't keep her thoughts from surging, she couldn't make the world stop spinning--- counter clock wise, if you must know---, she couldn't keep her vision from blurring, she couldn't keep the tears from running rivers down her face, she couldn't help but run…

Her stomach was turning, she felt sick, she knew she was going to vomit… her chest felt pressured, it was hard to breathe… but she ran yet still.

She ran as fast and as far as her feet could take her.

And then… she collapsed.

When she could no longer run anymore, when her body could no longer hold still, when she could no longer try to keep her pieces together, she collapsed against a tree.

Her breath came in gasp after gasp, she laid her head back against the tree and closed her eyes, gasping in breath after breath… she wanted to stop herself from puking, but it was unavoidable.

She turned to her side and flipped to her knees and puked until there was nothing else left in her, even some blood… then opened her eyes, and looked around.

It was twilight then… the one time inbetween day and night when one can not tell weather it is dark or light outside.

It seems rather purple, to me…

Rebecca breath normally again, but still shook with fever. She sat up on her knees, and looked all around her.

She was on the edge of town, right where the real town begins. She crawled to the edge of the street and looked down.

No one… no one was there. No one was outside, no shadows moved inside, no lights were on except porch, no one was there.

But where were they?

The ceremony! The ceremony at the church… everyone would be there… so that was where Rebecca had to go… she needed help… she didn't care if no one would believe her, she needed help.

And so, she stood up softly, forcing the world to balance and even out… and whipped the tear stains from her cheeks. Taking several deep breaths and holding them… then she brushed off her clothes and began to walk.

And walk she did, a paranoid walk of looking behind her back at such at all times, but a walk. She walks slowly but swiftly, through the deserted town… silent and shaking, until she made her way to the church.

It loomed dark against the twilight world, as she was now in late twilight.

The large windows with their painted glass didn't allow her to see through them… she stepped right up to one and tried to look in but the yellow paint was too blurred and all so one sided. She couldn't see…

So, she walked up the three steps, studying the heavy structure of the double doors… then grasped the knobs… taking a deep breath, she turned them slowly, then gave a little push and allowed them to swing open on their own.

"Hello?"

Inside the church was dark… the light was off and only one candle was lit at the far end of the room… she couldn't see a thing.

She felt the wall beside the door, feeling around for a light switch… feeling, feeling in the dark, her hand touched the light switch.

"Ooo," the soft moan came from her own lips… there was some sticky liquid on the switch. "What is that?" whispered.

Rebecca flicked on the switch… and saw red. Red… blood… all over her hand, all over the switch.

She gasped and jerked around.

Her eyes flew over the horror… taking it all in. All the bodies, all the blood, all the gashes, all the murders, all these human beings… mutilated!

She screamed… then screamed again. A scream she thought would never end…

Everyone… the whole town… all of the adults… anyone who could help her… dead! Dead… murdered… mutilated… by Bridgette. By her cousin! By her cousin and her cousins sick group… cult.

"No!" she cried out. "No, Oh no! Please, no…"

It did no good… this was real, this wasn't some fictional horror novel or a fictional horror movie… this was reality.

All these people were dead… and they had been killed by Bridgette and her cult.

Rebecca moaned, taking a step back… and felt as if she were going to be sick again. Though, she had already vomited everything inside her once today.

She took another step back… then another… and then turned and ran.

Running again.

She ran and ran until she was away from the church and on the road again, then turned back, hopping a little, and then stood.

The corn… the corn stretched out long beyond the church… behind the left side of the church, straight away from the road, there it was… the corn.

It was everywhere… inescapable… the corn. He Who Walks Behind the Rows's domain… and Bridgette's.

_He wants you…_

The voice echoed in her mind again… she shook her head softly, as if gently telling someone no.

_He wants you…_

_ I'm the only one left!,_ Rebecca realized, _I'm the only one left… the only one who still resists him… I am the only one left._

_ There's no way out._

Rebecca shivered violently. It was now night… twilight was no longer upon them.

They would come after her… there was nothing she could do, she knew it.

All her logic was gone… everything she had always prized so highly, all the things she always said that if you had you'd be OK.

This wasn't logical… it didn't make sense… there was no logical way to analyze this… But there had to be a way out, right?

Rebecca needed to think up her next move… _Think, Becca, think!_

How was she going to get out of this? She had to think… She had to!

_Think, Rebecca, think!_

A phone! That was the answer! She had to find a phone and call for help…

But who would she call?

She tried to think of someone… _anyone_… who could help her.

She couldn't.

She'd just have to figure that out when it came time for it… but right then, she needed to get to a phone.

And so she began again… her legs moving so quickly… running… running again. She was running for help, running to help.

She ran to the closest house, and pulled as hard as she could at the front door.

Locked.

She continued, moving, going to the next house… pulling on the door. She continued, on to the next and the next.

Until, finally, she reached an unlocked front door… to an old bright orange painted Victorian that was in pretty good shape.

She pulled the door wide, and then shoved the screen door open, dashing into the entry way which lead straight ahead to a stair way, and off to the left to a living room.

Was it still breaking and entering is the person who owned the house was dead? And the perpetrated was trying to phone for help?

She didn't want to get arrested… but it was better then dying out there, being murdered like them and "given" to He.

She dashed into the living room, looking around she saw no phone right off the bat, so she dug through papers and books and one magazine thrown on the coffee table. Not a cell phone, not a normal phone.

She checked all the surfaces… no phone.

She looked up… the living room led into the kitchen. She dashed in there and searched the walls for a wall phone.

None.

She dashed back to entry, and looked to the right of it. There was a den-type-area there that lead to a guest bed room… she looked around; everything was clear to plain sight in that room.

No phone.

So she ran up the stairs, a hall way… with only four doors leading off of it.

The first was a bath room… definitely no phone there.

The next, a child's bed room. One of the children… one of the creepy cult children in Bridgette's group… lived here.

There wouldn't be a phone in there… she dashed to the next door, a storage room, then to the next and final… a master bed room.

And, on the desk there, a phone, a cell phone!

Rebecca jumped to it, picking it up immediately… then she heard the door down stairs slam shut.

Someone else was here… and she didn't think it was Mummy and Daddy.

She shut the door, but there was no lock. "What type of parents don't have a lock on their bedroom door?" she demanded in a harsh whisper… it didn't matter now.

She jumped back to the bed and jammed the on button on the cell phone. It loaded up like such phones usually do… but then, the little battery thing in the corner went from half full to empty.

"Empty? Empty! No!" Rebecca whispered in distress. She looked at the door, hearing footsteps on the stairs. "How did they find me? How did they find me so _fast_?"

She moved, clutching the cell phone for dear life, the foot steps were creeping up the hall.

She dived under the bed, laying flat down on her stomach… hiding under there from, no doubt, one of Bridgette's flunkies.

She clutched the cell phone, pressing the on button again. Once again it started up, once again it told her the battery was empty.

_No…_, she thought, crying in her head. _No… please no!_

The footsteps neared the door, came right up to it… and stopped.

Rebecca could see the door from her place under the mattress… she watched the knob turn in horror, watched it creep open… it seemed in slow motion.

The door came slowly open, opened wide… Rebecca saw three sets of feet, legs, and lower male bodies. Children… just as she had suspected.

One of the sets moved in first, then the other two not far behind, examining the room… looking for her.

They looked all around the room, checking everywhere, the closet, every corner, all around… then they headed for the door.

Rebecca felt a strong relief take over her chest, and she let out the full breath she had been holding in her lounges through her nose.

Then they stopped… and one set, the one who had originally entered, turned and neared the bed. Rebecca's throat knotted up again.

The foot steps came right up to the bedside… and a face peered under.

Rebecca cried out as David's eyes laid upon her, and she tried to squirm out from under the bed on the other side, but it was no use, two of the boys grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her out one their side.

She struggled against them, but two of the flunkies held her arms, it was no use.

"No! No!" she shrieked, fighting against them. "Let me go! Let go of me!"

David stepped right up in her face. "You thought we wouldn't find you? You _actually _thought you'd get away?"

Rebecca gave him a scornful look.

"You didn't, did you?" he continued, grinning in her face. "Something deep in side you, deep in your heart, told you you'd never make it out of her… you'd never get away. You knew it before it happened. You know you did."

Rebecca stopped fighting… and hung her head, falling mostly limp in her captor's arms. It was true… she did know.

David's smile victoriously and he stood up straight once again.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Rebecca whispered.

"_I _didn't know. It was Bridgette… your dearest cousin. He Who Walks Behind the Rows gave her the sight… _she_ knew you'd be here."

Rebecca felt awful… her eyes clouded over and she was mute.

Bridgette had ratted her out… her own cousin. Bridgette had betrayed her… and yet, Rebecca still loved her.

"Take her to the field, to our place of meeting." David commanded the others.

They simply gave swift nods of obedience to Bridgette's right-hand-man, and did as they were told.

David smiled.

And Rebecca gave up.


	9. When Greetings Are Goodbyes

**_ The Revelation 16:17 part of this chapter was inspired by a scene in chapter one of "Hell On Earth__"__ by Meagan (Garbage and City Lights)_._ I do not own it._

.

.

.

No stars shined in the sky above them.

Not even the moon.

The night was cloudy… everything was covered up. The darkness over took the light… Oh! How true that was.

All the children were gathered, once again, in their clearing, in the corn field. All of them were there… but Bridgette stood out, Bridgette stood glowing with joy, strong and confident among them all.

Bridgette stood, as she had always stood, their leader.

Two of the older boys, the ones that had taken Rebecca always from the house, stood now… tying her to a wooden pool placed a little higher of center, more towards where Bridgette usually stood.

But now, she stood at the completely opposite end of the clearing, some what off to the right.

An older girl with long brown princess curls had placed a crown of dandy lions on top of Rebecca's head.

The boys finished tying the rough rope once around Rebecca's waist and a few times around her wrists, giving them rope burn.

Rebecca's hair hung long and free now, though it barely moved in the soft night breeze. They'd her in a stark white nightgown, mid-thigh-length with a white fringe of sorts around the button, long sleeved with the same fringe around the ends of the sleeves and that same fring around the collar. The sleeves were a little bit puffy. It looked like a little girl's nightgown and made her look like a little girl... it made her look like a rag doll.

Bridgette looked the listless Rebecca up and down, smiling proudly.

"Now…" she began. "The bulk of those who have done our world wrong… are gone. The adults have been put in there place… and she has been prepped for the ceremony… everything is as it should be. Are you ready to begin?"

She looked among her followers, the children of He Who Walks Behind the Rows, as she asked this.

They all beckoned their agreements, odd to each other.

Bridgette raised her hand "Silence… Becky, are you ready to be given to He Who Walks Behind the Rows?"

Rebecca looked at her cousin with tired eyes. "Don't call me Becky you sadistic little half-a-bitch."

"Answer the question!" Bridgette's voice boomed, mixed with the voice of He Who Walks Behind the Rows.

"Yes… yes." Rebecca cried out the first, the second was said almost normally. She wanted this over with… so why had that frightened her?

Bridgette smirked. "Then so it shall be…" she looked at the fire burning in the center of the clearing and the firing grew blazing, and with a delicate wave of an unnaturally pale hand it moved as if in turn with her, and burned over the ground, forming a circle around the limp Rebecca.

Rebecca gasped and pulled herself back against the pole, the warmth had grown quite a bit where she stood, even though the flames were with in a good two and a half, three feet, away from her.

"Bridgette! What are you doing?" she shrieked.

"Have you ever taken the time to read the bible, Becky?" Bridgette asked, smoothly but powerfully. "You have, I know you have. I was there."

Rebecca cried out in her pathetic fear as the fire formed its hollow circle around her, she was damn near crying.

"Revelations, 16:17: "And the seventh angel poured out his vial into the air; and there came a great voice out of the temple of heaven, from the throne, saying, 'It is done.'""

"Stop it!" Rebecca shrieked, struggling, trying to pull her body away from the pole she was tied to. "Please, Bridgette!"

Bridgette ignored her pleading.

""And there were voices, and thunders, and lightning; and there was a great earthquake, such as was not since men were upon the Earth so might an earthquake.""

Bridgette stood strong, the children watched her with wide eyes… staying a certain distance behind her… she was stronger, fiercer, then they had ever seen her before. A typical smirk spread slowly over her lips. The ground below Rebecca's feet and the pole shook softly, but only behind the strange wall of flames that encircled her. Rebecca knew this part… she knew what was going to happen… to become one with He, she was to become one with the corn… the ground was going to swallow her whole. Bridgette lips parted as she began a whisper: -

"It is d---" Bridgette was stopped, the ground below Rebecca stopped it's shaking. She opened her eyes to see why.

"Matt!" Rebecca cried. Mathew had tackled Bridgette… Mathew was still alive and he had come to her rescue!

He turned and looked at Rebecca through the wall of fire. "Rebecca!"

"Look out!"

David came at Mathew with a sickle in hand, Mathew ducked out of the way, then grasped David's wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

David dropped the sickle.

Mathew grabbed it quickly, shoved David to the ground, and jumped back away from him. Most of the children had placed their weapons somewhere else, unseen by this clearing, only the five older boys were still armed… and Bridgette's scythe was laid against the corn fields beginning on the edge far behind Rebecca.

Mathew dashed around, behind Rebecca. "Help me!" she cried, trying to look behind her through the circle of fire.

"I'm trying!" Mathew called, he knew it was a tough chance… but if he shot just right, he could throw the sickle to where it would cut Rebecca free. "Bring your wrists as far apart as you can!"

"What are you doing?" Rebecca cried, but obeyed. He didn't answer… but instead, aimed… and shot.

_Snap_! The sickle cut… right through the ropes, releasing Rebecca. Mathew had aimed right… "I'm free!"

"Hurry!" he cried.

Rebecca turned to what would be facing him, had there not been the wall of fire between them. How was she going to get through it?

"Stop them! Kill the boy! Now!" Bridgette's voice cried out the orders to the children as she made her way to sit up again. He had knocked her down _hard_.

"Hurry, Rebecca!" Mathew cried desperately.

"I…" Rebecca paused, looking around the circle. "I'm trying!"

The children began to close in on Mathew; he fought them off as well as he could… Rebecca knew what she had to do… she had to jump _through_ the flame.

She took steps back to the other side of the fire circle, and then a deep breath… and she was off! She covered her face with her arms and ran through the fire!

The dandy lion crown caught in the fire, destroyed. Rebecca tripped once out of it and fell against the ground, coughing and coughing, but she was unhurt.

"Rebecca!" Mathew dashed to her, picking her limp body up. "We really don't have much time to lie around, maybe have a nice chat…"

Rebecca merely continued to cough, feeling as if she were going to pass out… she was more then half way there, already.

Mathew sighed an aggravated sounding sigh and threw her up on his back, her arms limply falling over his shoulders, and ran…

"Stop them! Stop the traitors to He Who Walks Behind the Rows!" Bridgette's voice cried out behind them… but Mathew kept running.

"Don't let them catch us…" Rebecca whispered gently.

"I don't plan to!" Mathew replied, running through the corn… running through the corn field. Rebecca's memory flashed pictures of her running through the corn field after Tobin… pictures of her running from Bridgette earlier, pictures of her running through the church doors, pictures of her running… she had done so much running.

"We're almost to the edge," Mathew told her. "Just hold on, they won't leave the corn field… not for us."

_How do you know that?_, Rebecca wondered, but didn't say.

The edge came right in front of them as the corn thinned, and through it he sped, with Rebecca on his back… he ran to the road, where a navy blue car was parked.

Mathew stopped beside it, and let Rebecca down.

He stood and caught his breath, while Rebecca stood and thought… willing away the faintness.

They stood there… together… for a long time. Mathew was sixteen, old enough to drive. He had probably driven the car over there.

"Did you see… in the church?" Rebecca asked, breaking their silence, still staring out at the corn.

"Yeah…" Mathew answered, his voice sounded inpained. "But… but… my parents weren't there… they died earlier."

"What?" Rebecca sounded more shocked then she had meant to.

"Abigail…" the pain in his eyes was so clear, it stabbed right through Rebecca's heart. "Abigail… she killed them. Abigail killed them. My God… Abigail killed our _parents_! Her own parents…"

"I… I'm sorry." Rebecca said, and felt a drop of water strike her nose, then another… then another… and within seconds in was raining and raining hard.

"Get in." Mathew told her, his voice rose a little over the sound of the rain.

Rebecca stood silent for a moment. "… No."

"What?"

"No."

"Why, Rebecca? W---"

"Bridgette… and Abigail. I can't leave them here… not like this. I have to go in after them."

"No! You can't!"

"I have to…"

"Then I'll go with you!"

"No. I have to go alone… if I get caught… it's me they want, not you. Just stay in the car and if anyone besides me comes out, drive."

"Rebecca… no! You can't…"

"I'll be alright." Rebecca smiled warmly at him. "Trust me…"

He was silent. There was no way to convince her not to go back… she was going in there, no matter what the consequences. That was it…

"Come back to me… ok?" Mathew said softly.

Rebecca nodded, and with a jumpy start, and began to run again… through the rain, back to the field, back into the corn.

Her feet seemed to thud louder against the ground when it was wet… or, at least, to Rebecca. Each step was like thunder in her ear.

She ran… ran a crossed the grass… running to the corn.

This time she wasn't running away… this time she was running into the eye of the storm. This time she was being strong… she couldn't leave Abigail and Bridgette like that… she couldn't leave _Bridgette_ like that!

She felt as though the moment she passed inbetween the grass and the corn was in slow motion… and stepping into a brand new world, a place that was dark and cold and where the rain pattered so hard down that she was already soaking wet from head to toe.

Her head felt heavy with the soaking wet hair heavy down it… but she ignored the feeling, moving through the stocks… she needed to find Bridgette.

It seemed, to her, as though the same two steps were taken over and over through the corn, moving with the rain pattering… she saw a clearing a head, but it wasn't the cults clearing… it was _much_ smaller, and shaped similar to a key hole.

She ran into it, she stopped right on the line where the corn ended… as did Bridgette, on the other side.

They stood there… for a long, long time… both cousins, best friends, sisters… staring at each other. Solid and soaking wet from head to toe.

It seemed almost like mirror images.

Except Bridgette was from the other side of the mirror… where everything was different and backwards.

They stood there, plain and simple, for a long time. And Rebecca suddenly wondered why Bridgette wasn't calling any of her flunkies.

"Why did you run?" Bridgette finally broke the silence.

"I don't _want_ to be "one with He"!" Rebecca cried.

Silence, again.

"Bridgette…" her voice sounded almost begging. "I am you."

Bridgette cocked her head, slightly, like a confused puppy dog.

"Your blood… my blood… they flow through both of us." Rebecca smiled faintly. "We are one, we have always been one. I am Bridgette and you are Rebecca, I am Rebecca and you are Bridgette… it's the same, we're the same. Don't you see that? Don't you understand?"

Bridgette stood still with the same strange expression… she knew, but she wasn't quite sure.

"Your blood flows through me as mine through you…" Rebecca repeated a pause. "Now I am you."

Silence again… between the two.

"I always have been."

And then there was silence… again. Which was Bridgette's fault. Rebecca was done, through with speaking, it was Bridgette's turn. She waited for it to sink in… before Bridgette spoke.

"Wrong again, Rebecca."

Rebecca had no time to turn and run, Bridgette flew at her and grasped tightly around her waist… but Rebecca's arms were still free.

There faces so close, Bridgette's sickly… inhumanly pale. Rebecca pressed her hands against Bridgette's shoulders… and pushed.

Pushed with all her strength… and pushed Bridgette to the ground, on her back.

Rebecca grabbed the handle from her back pocket… and pulled the pistil out, holding it tightly in both her hands, her finger on the trigger.

By the time Bridgette was able to get up to her el bows, Rebecca already had the safety off.

Bridgette lowered her eye brows a little… but besides that, her face was blank. That good old blank stare, with the eyes that look up so menacingly…

And Rebecca, whose face, too, was blank… except for her eye brows, which were drawn as if in pity or sadness…

They stood like that for the longest time… it could have been five minutes, it could have been forty five… Who knew?

The images… Rebecca's memory… flashed through her mind, discolored as if they had been through a green filter. Finding Bridgette's in the top drawer of Bridgette's dresser, picking it up and examining it, feeling the ach in her heart, admitting it to herself: "I might need this…"… the sickening memories.

"Is this the only way?" Rebecca cried finally, demanding.

Bridgette took a minute to reply… but then, slowly, gently, nodded her head only twice…

Rebecca let out one single sob… and not another… not allow the tears to come to her eyes. She fought them with all her being… and even looked away from Bridgette… looking around, as long as it wasn't at Bridgette.

Bridgette saw her chance… and took it. Stretching one of her legs out as far as it would; she brought it around and hit Rebecca hard in the ankles.

Taking her feet right out from under her…

Rebecca fell to her right side, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the air out of her… then she heard the gun fire.

_Bang!_

It shattered through Rebecca's world… shattering everything in sight.

She turned over on her back and looked at Bridgette… who was clutching the right side of her abdomen with her left hand… her right arm was at her side.

At some point in time, she had sat up.

Rebecca watched in disbelief as blood began to trickle between Bridgette's fingers… and Bridgette moved her hand away slowly, shaking with fever, to reveal the gun shot wound in her side…

Rebecca's mouth fell open… her features twisted in a mix of horror and indescribable sadness.

Bridgette placed her hand over her wound again when a sudden gasp and her head shot up, staring up at the sky.

She sat like that for a long time… it frightened Rebecca all too much, she didn't understand. She was frozen there… unbelieving.

Bridgette's head slowly came back down… until it was hung. Then lifted a little, and she looked up at Rebecca… and smirked, slowly, weakly… warmly.

"Goodbye, Strange."

The words sounded like a foreign language… Bridgette's voice, uttering Bridgette to Rebecca's greeting--- the same greeting they had used since they were four years old--- as a farewell… Had Rebecca heard right?

But, with those words, Bridgette's last, she slunk back slowly… and lay limp against the ground… the rain softly pattering her clothes.

"Bridgette?" Rebecca whispered, her voice shrill as death… it rose as she said it again, and screamed as she said it a third time. "Bridgette? Bridgette!"

She crawled on the ground… on all fours, mostly dragging her legs… over to her cousin's limp body.

"Bridgette?" she whispered… so shrill… staring at the pale face with the blank expression and the closed eyes. "Bridgette?"

Rebecca put herself besides her cousin, and picked her upper body up, setting it against her lap, cradling it in her arms.

"Bridgette…"

No response… she placed her hand under Bridgette's nose.

_She's not breathing…_

The words shattered in Rebecca's head... she placed her fingers against the side of Bridgette's neck.

No heart beat.

She was dead…

_He Who Walks Behind the Rows has abandoned me… and you shot me, Becky. What a special day…_

_ Goodbye, Stranger._

Bridgette said… no… no, wait… it was just Bridgette's voice in Rebecca's head.

_Goodbye, Strange._

"Bridgette…" Rebecca whispered for her sixth and final time… and then she was mute and clutched Bridgette tightly… hugging her.

And that was all…

Because in the end… the real victims… were the cousins, who everyone said mine as well be sisters, Bridgette and Rebecca.

.

Goodbye, Stranger.


End file.
